


The Child

by Athaia



Series: Planet of the Apes: Hunted [9]
Category: Planet of the Apes (TV)
Genre: Fan Reboot, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, Science Fiction, action-adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athaia/pseuds/Athaia
Summary: Cornered by Urko and his men, the fugitives have no choice but to hide inside a Forbidden Zone, where apes don’t dare to follow. When they discover the ruins of yet another city, Virdon insists they search for technology that might bring them home - but the ruins harbour a deadly secret...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It has been brought to my attention that I post too long chapters that are tiring for the reader, so I'm trying out shorter chapters that aren't longer than 3k. Please let me know if this works better for you, or if anything else is bothering you. Without feedback, I can't improve. 
> 
> But now... let the show begin.

The sun had already set when Galen signaled to the others to stop, but the sky was still a translucent blue, and the diffuse light allowed him to survey the area. The marches were almost behind them; the ground under his feet had stopped squishing, and was gently sloping upwards, and the vegetation had changed from willows and poplars to elms and ash trees. A battered yellow and black sign, half-overgrown with honeysuckle, announced that they were dangerously close to tainted ground.

Solid ground, though - easier for horses to tread, easier for patrols to ride. Galen supposed he should be grateful to get out of the mosquito-saturated marshland, but his muscles were humming with tension. Their guide had left them before the sun had touched the horizon, slipping back into the swamp like a little animal. Galen fervently wished he could slip back as well, hide in the swaying, dripping, whirring labyrinth until Urko gave up and rode back south.

Realistically, though, that would never happen; Urko would sooner drain the swamp and burn down the trees, if he suspected they were still hiding in it. Galen sighed and directed his attention towards his little tribe that had made him, by some strange process, their temporary leader.

Alan held on to the neck of the gelding, but he looked as if he’d break down any moment; his face was pale and sweaty, and his gaze was turned inward, probably focusing on the last reserves of his strength.

Zana caught his gaze and turned around to inspect Alan herself. „Mothers, Alan! Sit down before you fall over!“ She let go of the rope that she had used to lead the horse, and urged the human to sit down, handing him a water bottle.

„I’m... fine,“ Alan gasped. „We can’t stop now.“

„Yes, we can,“ Zana said firmly. „It’s only for a few moments, and then you’ll ride on Ah..pah... Peet, why that name? It sounds like an illness!“

Their other human ambled over to her, gun resting comfortably in the crook of his arm. Galen tried not to tense at the sight; Peet and his gun _had_ saved all their lives when Urko and his men had descended on them this morning.

„It’s Apa _chee,_ not Apa _choo,_ Zana,“ he grinned. „One is an illness, the other is an _attack helicopter.“_

The last words had been an unintelligible yammer, probably from his own language. Peet seemed to sense both their irritation. „It’s a machine that flies,“ he explained.

Zana shook her head. „What could a horse and a flying machine have in common?“

Peet patted the horse’s neck. „They’re both lean, mean, killing machines.“

Galen supposed that was what had enamoured Peet to the other beast in the first place - their shared aversion against apes. It was the reason that horse had been so cheap that he could afford it. He had needed a second horse, and figured that he could leave its care to the humans. It worked out better than expected - Peet had adopted the gelding, although he still claimed not to care for horses in general.

„Any sign of Urko and his troupe?“ Galen asked him.

Peet shook his head. „The kid was really good. Almost sunk _our_ horses.“ He patted the gelding’s neck again; the horse ignored him, busying itself with the hard grass instead.

Galen’s own horse, on the other hand, hadn’t touched the grass since they had stopped, and that wasn’t a good sign. She was favoring her hind leg on the side that the bullet had grazed. He quickly inspected the wound; it needed stitching.

After another glance at their exhausted human, that looked as if he wouldn’t be able to make another step anytime soon, Galen decided that he could as well clean and dress the horse’s wound, and discuss their next steps in the meantime. He ordered Peet to hold the horse, and quickly removed the saddlebags.

„We’re right at the border to the Forbidden Zone,“ he said as he began to clean the wound. He glanced at Alan, and gestured uphill. „As you can see.“

The humans turned their heads, only now noticing the sign whose colors had already dulled to various shades of gray in the dusk. Everyone stared at the ancient symbol for a moment.

„Huh,“ Peet said finally. „Funny what survives the centuries. How old _is_ that sign?“

Galen shrugged. „They are being renewed every now and then. I have no idea how old this one is - ten years, twenty?“ He doubted that a lot of people came by this place and had need of warning. The fact that a sign had been placed here, however, indicated that this path was frequented often enough, and that meant that Urko might find it, too.

Suddenly, stopping here seemed like an exceptionally bad idea.

„Oh, good,“ Peet muttered. „For a second, I thought it had been there since they nuked the place.“

He was silent for a while; Galen finished his last stitch and thought that he was beginning to shape up as a surgeon. Of course, treating animals that _couldn’t_ talk was pretty helpful in that regard. He dabbed some chamomile oil on the suture. Time to get moving again.

„You know,“ Peet spoke up hesitantly, „now that we’re all on the same page about where I and Al really came from... I wondered how far we jumped into the future. I mean...“ He gestured towards the sign. „Did this happen five hundred years ago? Five thousand? Five _hundred_ thousand? ‘Cause that could answer the question of how dangerous it is in there.“

„Too dangerous,“ Galen said tersely and closed his doctor’s bag. „The villagers told me that monstrous creatures live in the cursed zone. Sometimes they haunt the edges of the villages; sometimes... they get into a barn, or a human hut.“ He looked at them in turn, Alan, Peet, Zana. „Nobody survives those encounters.“

Zana shivered, but the humans looked unconvinced. Galen felt his irritation grow.

„We’ve already been in two Forbidden Zones,“ Alan pointed out. He was still sitting on the ground, clutching the water bottle. He looked as exhausted as before. „We haven’t come across any mutations at all, not even mutated plants.“

„Believe me, Alan, mutated _plants_ will be the least of our concerns,“ Galen said sharply. „Not all Zones are equally dangerous, and Peet is almost out of bullets. And Zana is pregnant. I’m not going to risk her life, or that of our child... or yours, just to take a shortcut.“

„It’s not about taking a shortcut,“ Alan argued, struggling to his feet. „It’s about shaking off Urko...“

„Urko has already lost his inhibition to cross into the Zones,“ Galen pointed out. „You, of all people, should be aware of that.“

„Yeah, but he almost lost his life in there, and he lost one of his men,“ Peet cut in. „That’ll make him think twice, I bet. He wants to kill _us,_ not himself. And he doesn’t know how much ammo I’ve left.“

Galen shook his head. „Maybe he’ll back off because of that, but those creatures won’t calculate how much ammunition you might have, Peet. They’ll attack anyway, and then what? Are you going to defend yourself with nothing but your teeth and claws?“

Peet stared at him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. „If I have to. But I don’t believe any old wive’s tale I hear. Maybe they just heard some ‘possums having a party in their pantry...“

Alan choked on his water bottle, and Zana giggled. Galen flopped the saddlebags with more force than necessary on Tala’s back, and the horse buckled when one of them grazed the suture.

 _Why must he_ always _argue with me?_

„Well, I suppose you know exactly what kinds of horrors might or might not expect us in there,“ he said acidly, „since your kind created them in the first place.“

„How do you wanna know that?“ Peet asked, his tone now sharper, too. „Maybe we nuked the cities, but that doesn’t create hellhounds or godzillas. The only thing it makes is cancer.“

„Oh, that makes... _nuking..._ those cities so much better!“ Galen sneered. „Tell me, weren’t there people living in those cities? Fellow humans? Your brethren?“

„Hey, I didn’t nuke anything, and I’ve no idea what happened, okay?“ Peet raised his hands defensively, and scowled at him. „That was after we... after we fell through that hole in spacetime...“

„It’s not about you, it’s about your species,“ Galen hissed. „Huge areas are forever unusable, impassable, because of what you’ve done!“

„Galen, darling,“ Zana piped up. „These are Alan, and Peet, not some faceless Man-beasts from ancient times. They’ve done nothing wrong, and we _know_ them, they aren’t like that...“

„Most people weren’t ‘like that’,“ Alan added, looking at him with a worried expression that made Galen even more furious. As if _he_ was the dangerous creature here. „Most people just wanted to raise their families in peace,“ Alan continued, „and to not have to worry about having enough money to pay their bills, and not get sick, and... just live their lives. They were just caught in a system they couldn’t control...“

„A system isn’t a sentient entity,“ Galen snapped. „It’s the sum of the people, and _your_ people were always eager to get more, have more, _consume_ more, until they had consumed everything, and then they went looking for the things their neighbours had, to consume _them,_ like a forest fire! You know, that reminds me of scroll 29, verse 6: ‘Yea, he will murder his brother, to possess his brother’s land’!“ He pointed at the sign. „And if he can’t possess it, nobody else can have it, either!“

„Galen, enough!“ Zana propped her hands on her hips. „That’s all very fascinating, but we really don’t have the time for a philosophy... or a history lesson. Urko could be right around that grove, laughing at you tearing into our humans. We belong together, so let’s not start bickering!“

„I’m not _bickering!“_ Galen snapped. „I’m just tired of Peet fighting every single one of my decisions...“ He flicked a glance at the human, who had fallen conspicuously silent, and was avoiding his eyes all of a sudden. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Galen thought that Peet looked pale, and somehow ill.

„Well, in this case, I agree with him,“ Zana said briskly. „If those rumors are also circulating in Trion, Urko’s men will have heard them all, too, and he’ll have great difficulties getting them to cross that border. And that gives us an advantage we can’t pass up. So I’m afraid you’re outvoted, dear. Let’s go!“ She tugged at Ahpahchee’s rope, and the gelding snorted and shook his head, annoyed at the disruption of his grazing.

„It’s too dangerous...“

Something cracked and splintered in the distance. They all froze, searching each other’s faces for confirmation.

Yes. They had all heard it. Horses crashing through dead wood...

Galen snatched up Tala’s rope. “... but it seems to be the only path open for us now.“ He urged the mare past the sign, not looking up at it. Behind him, he heard Ahpahchee snort, and Peet muttering to the horse. He threw a last glance over his shoulder, into the darkening wilderness behind them. He couldn’t see the shadows of their pursuers, but he could feel them, predators stalking them, eyes glinting with anticipation. He pursed his lips and and tugged at the mare’s rope again.

Maybe they would meet monsters. But he wasn’t sure anymore that they wouldn’t have simian faces.

* * *

Despite her bold words to Galen earlier, Zana felt increasingly nervous as the night pounced on them like a bushcat - one moment, the woods around them were a graying tapestry of trees and vines, the next moment, darkness had engulfed them as if it was rising from the forest floor itself.

It was just because the canopy was blocking out the sky, she told herself - out in the marches, dusk would have settled first around the eastern horizon and given her time to adjust her eyes. Still, she couldn’t help but feel as if the forest itself was watching her from the whispering shadows... as if the eyes of unnatural creatures were tracking their every move. All that talk about monsters and human abominations was shaping every bush into a crouching menace. She was growing annoyed at herself - but she couldn’t shake off the tension that had settled in her shoulders.

Splashing sounds from Galen and Tala before her alerted Zana to another shallow creek they had to pass. The woods were full of them, and their rushing noise drowned out any sounds of approaching... _predators,_ natural animals like bushcats, or, or... she had no idea what kind of animals lived in those woods, but in any case, nothing monstrous.

She stretched out her leg to feel for the embankment, and stumbled when the horse made a sudden jump over an obstacle that it could more sense than see. Behind her, she heard a crash and a muffled yelp, as Alan lost his grip on the animal and fell into the underbrush. His leg had given out under him again. Zana splashed through the water to catch the gelding, guilt burning in her chest. She had led the horse; it was her responsibility to make sure that Ahpahchee didn’t push their injured human to the ground.

„I’m so sorry, Alan,“ she apologized when the human caught up to her, „the rope slipped through my hand...“

„I guess... that was... unexpected for... both you and me,“ Alan said. His voice sounded strained; he had to be in a lot of pain.

„You know what, you’ll sit on Ahpahchee’s back,“ Zana said resolutely. „Nobody can see you in the darkness, and you can’t walk with that leg anymore.“

This time, the human didn’t protest, which told her how much in pain he had to be. She called Peet, who helped Alan to get on the horse’s back, and wound the rope around her hand to make sure she wouldn’t lose it again.

Ahpahchee seemed to sense her new determination, and followed her along like a little lamb, and soon enough, Zana’s thoughts had returned to Galen’s dark mutterings about man-made horrors stalking lonely farmhouses. She tried to think logically about it. Nobody possessed the ability to create new kinds of animals, monstrous or not. Not beyond the usual selection by breeders, anyway. Anyone with that ability would be equal to the Mothers... and to claim that _humans,_ of all creatures, had ever wielded that god-like power... it was nothing short of blasphemy.

She wondered if Galen had gotten those ideas from his book. The book that chronicled the _true_ history of Man and Ape, as he claimed, a history that had been kept hidden from them by old men like Zaius, presumably to protect simple apes like herself from nightmares about Man’s potential for absolute, unimaginable power...

What if that book was full of lies? Who had even been the author? What intentions had guided his hand? According to Galen, the book was a copy of an older work, one that had already crumbled when the unknown scribe had copied it hundreds of years ago. But of course, they only had the words of that ape (or human? had a _human_ written these outrageous claims?) for that...

... but she had a human from that bygone era riding beside her. In the whispering, rushing darkness, he suddenly was no longer Alan; he had become the ghost of a lost eon, a messenger of tales that had been buried by her people on purpose. Tales that would haunt her if she asked him now...

A muffled moan shook her from these increasingly fretful musings, and suddenly, Alan was just Alan again, a human - _her_ human - with a bad leg, still tormented by the aftermath of that gunshot that had crippled him weeks ago. Zana wished she could ease his pain. Well, at least she might be able to distract him a bit.

„Alan...“ She waited until he had grunted an acknowledgment. „When Peet mentioned the last time we were in a Forbidden Zone, I remembered something. You know how I caught up to you when Galen and Peet pulled you and Urko out of that sinkhole?“

Galen and Peet and that lieutenant of Urko, Nelva - who had felt bound to his word, despite being in Urko’s service for who knew how long. But that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about right now.

„That day is... hard to forget,“ Alan said dryly.

„I was only able to reach you in time because I used a... a tunnel that ran under the city.“ And she had only been able to use that tunnel because she had grabbed the daughter of their human hosts from the nearby village, and forced her into her service as a guide. The memory sent a little stab through her gut. True, she had sent Delia home before she had entered the tunnel, but still... she had been The Ugly Ape that day, stealing human children...

She shook her head and continued, „I had long wanted to ask you about that tunnel, but so much happened in the meantime, I just forgot. What _was_ that? Why burrow into the ground like, like rabbits?“ She didn’t want to compare his contemporaries to fire-spiders, but she couldn’t suppress a shiver of disgust when she pictured the web of connected tunnels that were still hiding under those ruins. Fortunately, Alan wouldn’t be able to see her reaction in the darkness.

After a moment of silence, Alan’s voice reached her ear from behind, still halting and tense... controlling his pain. „It was mostly for... for reasons of efficiency. These tunnels had... had wagons running in them, and,“ she heard him draw a deep breath, „and only one wagon was allowed in a tunnel at a time. So they wouldn’t... block each other’s passage. So people could traverse the city much faster... than above ground.“

„I think I came across such a wagon,“ Zana confided. She wondered how it had run without horses - the track hadn’t looked as if a horse could walk on it. „It was filled with human skeletons.“

„They... they died in the wagon?“ Alan’s voice sounded... strange. Zana wished she could see his face.

„Yes,“ she confirmed. „But they were all still seated. Nobody had tried to flee the wagon, there were no signs of struggle, only... only glass everywhere. Inside the wagon.“

There was a long silence.

„An explosion,“ Alan finally murmured. „A blast that hit them completely unprepared. But... underground? Maybe _guided missiles...“_

„I didn’t understand those last words,“ Zana prompted him after another moment of silence.

„They were under attack from someone,“ Alan said finally.

„From other humans,“ Zana concluded.

The ground had begun to slope upwards for a while now, and she grabbed Ahpahchee’s withers to let the horse drag her up the hill. It had been a long day; her feet were aching so much that she contemplated joining Alan on the horse’s back.

“... yes.“ The admission came after an even longer pause, almost inaudible over the loud rushing to their left. It sounded like a small waterfall.

„But _why?“_

„I have no idea. We weren’t at war with... well, nobody was attacking us on our soil when Pete and I left.“ Alan’s voice didn’t sound so strained anymore. It sounded tired.

Maybe she should have found another topic to distract him with. „Is it true that you could create new creatures... unnatural creatures?“

So much for a different topic.

She heard Alan sigh. „Some scientists did experiments in that regard... although the intent was to find cures against rare diseases, not to create new beasties for the zoo.“

„So you really did have these abilities,“ Zana marveled. „Amazing. It’s... hard to imagine.“

Alan huffed a laugh. „You could say that. Looking at my descendants, I can hardly believe it myself.“

Zana suspected that they were both having the same thought: what in the world had happened that mankind had fallen so deeply? And how had the apes ascended?

Maybe they should send a team of historians into those ruins, Zana mused. Whatever had happened back then must have left traces - relics that were buried somewhere under those old cities of humans past, relics that would speak not just of Man’s decline, but also of Ape’s rise to power. But maybe the Elders already knew the truth.

She wondered what about that truth was so terrible that they had kept it hidden throughout the centuries.


	2. Chapter 2

It was still dark when the crashing sounds of a stumbling horse and Galen’s muttered curse yanked Virdon out of his pain-filled doze. Zana had fallen silent a long time ago, and he had sunk into a half-sleep, a blur of shadows and chirping cicadas at the edge of his mind, while he had been listening to the cacophony in his leg. He was dimly aware that they had been climbing steep inclines for a long while, but he hadn’t been able to keep track. In his more confused moments, he had dreamed that they had already reached the mountains.

Still, he was grateful that he wasn’t sitting on Tala; that sudden jerk would’ve probably thrown him off her back, or at least crippled him with white-hot pain. But waking up from his trance, as everyone stopped to take stock of the mare’s state, was also painful. _Everything_ was painful, and he was so sick and tired of it all.

„We have to let her rest for a few hours,“ he heard Galen’s voice ahead of him. „She won’t be of any use for us otherwise, and Ah-pachee could use a break, too, I’d wager.“

 _„I_ could use some rest, thank you for asking,“ Zana sighed. „And I’m certain Alan will be happy, too, isn’t that right, Alan?“

Despite his pain, and weariness, Virdon couldn’t help but smile in the darkness. „I’m fine, Zana,“ he said reflexively. „But the horses should get a break, Galen’s right about that.“

Zana was there, though, to help him down from the horse, and to support him for the few steps to the little hollow in a grove - in the darkness, he couldn’t determine what kind of trees grew there, and just hoped it wouldn’t be some weird mutations.

„You should get some sleep, too, Pete,“ he said after he had crawled into the blankets that Zana had shaken out for him. He felt bad for having her wait on him, pregnant as she was, but he was too tired, and in too much pain, to protest much.

Pete was just a darker shadow in the already blinding darkness; after many clear days and nights, the sky had overcast. „Nah, it’s all good, Al,“ Virdon heard his voice. „Someone needs to keep the hellhounds away, and that someone is Betsy and me.“

Virdon sighed; he could’ve sworn he had heard Burke pat his gun.

Although his exhaustion even drowned out his pain, he didn’t have the impression of being really asleep; some part of his mind was aware of every chirp and rustle in the underbrush, the ripping sounds of the horses’ grazing, Zana’s sighs, Galen’s soft snoring, and the wind in the trees. Only Pete was a patch of silence in that tapestry of sounds, a watchful, motionless presence at the edge of his mind.

„Holy _shit!“_

With a gasp, Virdon jerked awake. The sky was a heavy gray above him, promising another torrent of rain. Pete was nowhere to be seen, but it had been his exclamation that had jolted him from a sleep that had crept up on him without him realizing. It felt as if no time had passed at all.

He sat up with a groan. The bedrolls were all empty, but when he turned around, he saw Pete and the apes standing at the crest of the little hill whose base had served as their camp. They were staring at something on the other side of that hill.

When he had finally made it up the slope with his crutch, the sight made him forget his pain and his empty stomach.

They had found another city.

Its architecture was bold, countless spires stabbing at the sky, with flat somethings winding around them and over each other in mid-air... highways? From his vantage point, Virdon couldn’t make out any supporting structures for the floating bands. He also didn’t recognize the skyline - it looked futuristic, as if the city had been built from scratch some time after their departure.

Maybe whatever had killed the people in Atlanta’s subway hadn’t happened in Chris’ lifetime.

„What the hell did they take as building material?“ Pete wondered aloud.

Whatever it was, it had withstood the elements over hundreds of years; the only visible decay were heaps of rubble, where some unknown force had punched out chunks of walls and roofs, and crushed the otherwise perfect bow of a bridge...

... if it had been a bridge. The shapes looked so unfamiliar that the city seemed almost alien, and Virdon had to remind himself that these ruins were _old_ now. Ancient, but from his own future. It was boggling his mind.

„Well,“ Galen said slowly, „it's a good thing that Tala forced us to stop last night. Otherwise we would’ve stumbled right into this... place.“

„Yeah, imagine that,“ Burke scoffed. „And then the demons would’ve bitten us in the ass. Or maybe it would’ve just been some frisky ‘possums.“

„Or these creatures,“ Galen said dryly, and pointed. Zana gasped.

They were no bigger than chickens, for which Virdon was grateful. Maybe their ancestors had even been chickens, but their descendants looked as if they had decided to climb back down the evolutionary tree, and turn into dinosaurs again. They still had plumage, black and white, but their heads and necks were scaly like snakes, which gave them the appearance of miniature vultures, except that vultures didn’t have a mouth - or a beak - full of needle-shaped teeth. Two of the creatures were fighting over the bloody carcass of some small animal, maybe a mouse.

„Damn,“ Burke said after a moment of stunned silence. „Here there be dragons, Al! I take back everything I said last night about Godzilla. Maybe they’re her babies...“

„I hope not,“ Virdon murmured. „I don’t want to meet her down there.“

There was a moment of pregnant silence.

„Whaddaya mean, Al,“ Burke said casually, not really making it a question. „We’re not going in there. Don’t wanna push our luck again, after your little dive into the basement in the last city we _explored.“_

Virdon suppressed an irritated sigh. „Look at the skyline, Pete! This is a city from _our future -_ we don’t even know what kind of material they used for the buildings! Hasslein was just test-driving his time-traveling wormhole with us, imagine where that technology would’ve been fifty years from then! Or two hundred! We have no idea _when_ that city was built... If the buildings were so resistant to time, there’s a distinct possibility that whatever’s _in_ those buildings is being much better preserved than whatever is left in the ruins of Atlanta.“ He finally turned his head to look at Burke, but his friend didn’t return his gaze. He was staring at the ruins, worrying his lip.

Finally, he shook his head. „I can understand that it’s an itch you can’t stop scratching, Al. I mean, I get it, you love your family, and you want to get back home however you can. But,“ he finally turned to look him in the eye, „this is _not_ a good time to go exploring. I mean, Urko’s right behind us! Maybe he kicked his men’s asses and they _did_ cross the border, and then what? I don’t want a repeat of Atlanta, an’ I doubt we’d get as lucky again, either!“

„If Urko had crossed into the Zone, he’d have caught up with us last night,“ Virdon argued. „C’mon, Pete, don’t _you_ want to go back home, too? To a world where you’re not regarded as an animal?“ From the corner of his eye, he saw Galen shut his mouth again.

Burke rubbed his neck. „What do you think you’ll find in there?“ he muttered. „It’ll all be corroded junk, like the kind that Gres had collected. I mean...“ He turned to Zana. „How long ago did your kind take over?“

Zana looked to Galen as if she wanted him to answer. „I don’t really know,“ she confessed. „The Lawgiver lived about seven hundred years ago...“

„Jesus Christ...“ Burke muttered.

“... but before that, there was the House of Cesar, and Cesar was the first ruler, the one who built our civilization, and he’s... it’s not even clear if he ever existed, or if he’s just a myth,“ Zana continued. „So the scholars aren’t really agreeing about how long his family ruled. Some say one century, and others say three...“

„So we’re talking about roughly a thousand years,“ Burke interrupted her. He turned away and raked his hand through his hair. „A fucking _millennium!“_

Virdon leaned heavily on his crutch, fighting a bout of dizziness. His heart was beating hard and fast against his ribs. A thousand years! A thousand years before his birth, the Normans hadn’t yet invaded Britain, and the Byzantine Empire was still in existence. If someone from the Holy Roman Empire had been transported into his time, Virdon wondered, would they’ve been able to acclimate themselves at all, over time?

He doubted it. It was too big a leap. No medieval peasant, or even knight, or bishop, would’ve ever been able to make a home in Virdon’s time. Just as he and Pete would never fit into this time. These people, apes or humans, weren’t their tribe.

For a moment, he felt utterly lost.

„I never thought I’d say this,“ Galen spoke up, „but I agree with Peet - Urko may well have managed to bully his men into the Forbidden Zone by now. They might already be on their way, which means we don’t have the time to do archeological excavations in these ruins, as fascinating as they may be. We don’t even have time to stand around and debate, unless you really want to tempt the Mothers.“

Virdon felt something like panic rise in his chest as he found the same determination in all three faces. The sun was pushing through the heavy clouds, alighting the spires of ruined towers as if someone had turned on a row of search lights. A homing beacon, calling out to him like a siren’s song.

He just couldn’t ignore this.

„On the contrary,“ he said, fighting to keep his voice calm. „Urko hadn’t expected to find us in that village - he hadn’t prepared for a manhunt, let alone a siege. He doesn’t have the resources to set up camp along the border and wait us out, and after what he did to Kanla’s workforce, I doubt she’ll help him out.“

„He’s right, Galen,“ Burke said hesitantly. „We could just sit this out in here...“

„You’re forgetting that _we_ don’t have any provisions, either,“ Galen pointed out icily. „What do you suggest we eat in the meantime? Those bird-things?“

„Want me to shoot one for breakfast?“ Burke asked innocently. Before the ape could explode, he turned to Virdon. „Galen’s right, Al, it’s a stupid idea. We don’t know if Urko is lying in wait somewhere at the border, or if he’s insane enough to come after us... no, scratch that, he _is_ insane enough.“ He shivered. „Believe me. I think I know him best of all of us.“

For a moment, an awkward silence descended onto them. In his mind’s eye, Virdon saw Chris riding the subway, chatting up his mother about something he’d seen at the zoo; unaware of the death that was splitting the sky in that very moment, honing in on them, trapping them, choking them...

He clenched his fists, forcing the vision out of his mind. „Tala needs at least one day to recover. You... you just stay here, get some rest, too. I’ll go alone and see what I can find...“

And then everyone began to shout at him at once.

„You can’t go alone!“ - „What, you’ll hobble through the rubble with your crutch?“ - „Alan, be sensible, one day isn’t sufficient, especially with your handicap...“

_„Stop treating me like a cripple!“_

They fell silent as if he’d slapped them, and for a moment, he allowed himself the fantasy. His head was throbbing, his blood pressure had to be through the roof. A sudden wave of disgust rolled over him, and he hurled his crutch away. He was so sick of that thing! So sick of that pain clawing through him day and night. Sick of having to discuss his decisions. Sick of having to ask permission from talking apes who treated him as some kind of intelligent pet when in private, and as a dumb, mute slave in the company of other apes. Sick of being stranded in this unreal, nightmarish travesty of Earth.

So. Sick. Of everything. He drew a deep, shaky breath.

„I’m not. Your pet. I’m not,“ he turned his head to Burke, and had to pause for a moment, teeth grinding, „your subordinate. I don’t take orders from _any_ of you. I’ll go there and find something that’ll help me get home. You’re welcome to come with me, stay here and wait for me, or go ahead and _not_ wait for me. I’m not going to tell you what to do.“

He turned away. „And you’re not going to tell _me_ what to do.“

* * *

The last time that Burke had seen his commander so completely pissed off had been after he had broken into Jones’ cabin to find evidence that the man had sold them to the Chinese. Not for the first time, Burke wondered if they wouldn’t just have jumped to Alpha Centauri and back without a hitch, if he hadn’t been so hell-bent on investigating that asshole. Maybe Virdon had been right to be pissed off with him then.

Maybe he was right to be pissed off with them now.

But right or not, there was just no way he’d let him stumble around in those ruins on his own. With a huff, Burke wandered over to where the crutch had tangled in a patch of brambles, and snatched it up.

„Are you going to fetch him?“ Galen asked.

Burke turned towards him with a scowl. „No. I’m not a dog, and he’s not a stick I could fetch. I’d have to knock him out cold and drag him up here, and then when he wakes up, I’d have to knock him out again, before he beats up my ass for assaulting a superior officer. I’m going after him and see to it that he doesn’t fall into another fucking hole in the ground.“

„I’m coming with you.“ Zana gathered her robe and began to climb down to him. „We need to stay together as a group. We can still wait for you in the street, but if Urko does come after us, I want to be near you and your gun.“ She smiled at him, and he swallowed, not sure if he should feel flattered or burdened by that declaration of trust.

„I only have five bullets left,“ he cautioned her. Then he smiled, trying to soften his words. „But of course I’d spend them all to protect you.“

„I know, dear.“ She patted his arm as she passed him. Then she turned her head. „Hurry up, Galen, before we lose Alan in those ruins!“

„We didn’t even have breakfast,“ Galen called back. Then he he threw his arms up in frustration and turned around. „I’ll get the horses...“

He caught up with them at the foot of the hill, thanks to Virdon’s slower pace. Burke had handed him back his crutch, and after a moment of baleful staring, Al had wordlessly ripped it from his outstretched hand, and had resumed his slow descent into the bowels of that ancient, futuristic tomb.

This had to be one of those conceptual cities that had been designed and built from scratch, Burke mused as they crept along a wide walkway - from what he remembered, these cities had favoured walking or mass transport over individual cars. Or that abomination, _automated_ cars. The material under his feet was an immaculate white, even after all those centuries that had pounded against it... some kind of lotus effect, but much more sophisticated than what they had back in their own time.

„What’s your guess about the time gap between our flight and this thing’s construction?“ he asked Virdon, who just shrugged. Burke shook his head and continued his inspection. Al needed a bit more time to cool off. Fine with him. There was enough fantastic shit to admire around them.

Like big, mushroom-like structures in virtually every open space, even along the middle of the walkway. They blocked out much of the already storm-clouded sky, forcing them to move in a half-light that blurred contours and made it hard to spot any... well, anything moving through besides them. As far as Burke could determine, the only other living things were plants that covered the towers around them in a strangely deliberate way, as if the builders of this city had wanted them there. There, and nowhere else - the material hadn’t allowed the tiniest flower to bloom anywhere on the ground level. It wasn’t just impervious to wind and rain, it also resisted searching roots; not even moss was able to cling to the unnaturally smooth surfaces.

„Wonder what they needed the mushrooms for,“ Burke said casually. „Giant space heaters? Didn’t believe in climate warming and wanted to make sure they could party without freezing their asses of?“

Virdon flicked a quick glance upward. „That’s lilypad-shaped, and they probably used it for shading - for cooling, not heating the city,“ he growled. „Maybe they also had solar collectors on top of them.“

Well, at least they were talking again.

„Well, I gotta admit this city is scarily well-preserved,“ Burke continued and threw a quick glance over his shoulder. The apes were tagging along with the horses in tow, heads turning all the time to take in the sights that had to be even more alien to them than to him. They were so distracted by their sightseeing that they had fallen behind quite a bit, despite Al’s limp. „But even if they had parked a spaceship in some underground hangar...“

„I’m not looking for a ship, Pete,“ Virdon interrupted him impatiently. „I know you like to make it sound as if I was completely insane...“

„I think you’re desperate, Al, and that makes you just a little bit insane, yeah.“ Burke warily scanned the shadows between the gleaming ribs of a nearby tower, a skeletal construct with black glass panels between the white beams. Well, something like glass - not a single pane was broken. The windows looked like insect eyes, unblinkingly watching them pass by.

„But what I actually wanted to say,“ he turned back to Virdon, „is that whatever helpful tech might be tucked away here somewhere, we just don’t have enough time to dig through all this... _architecture!_ So why even bother? It’s like playing the lottery! A chance of one in a million... and that’s an optimistic guess.“

„And yet people are playing the lottery every day,“ Virdon said absently. He was scanning the towers, too, though he was probably searching for an entrance.

„That’s because people are idiots,“ Burke muttered. „But you ain’t one, Al, an’ it pains me to see you making idiotic choices. If you absolutely have to dig for ancient artifacts, do it when we’re on the other side of the mountains. I bet this isn’t the only abandoned city.“

„And what if the cities on the other side of the mountains are like Atlanta?“ Virdon stopped and stared at a kind of pavillion to their right. It was shaped like a conch, all curves and rounded edges, and was the first building with a discernible entrance. Virdon turned and limped towards it without looking back if anyone was following him.

Burke squeezed his eyes shut in frustration for a moment, then turned around and told the apes to wait here, this would just take a moment, before he hurried after his commander.

„Why does this have to happen _now,_ with Urko breathing down our necks?“ he demanded to know when he had caught up with Virdon.

The inside of the conch was surprisingly well-lit; the black window panes were transparent from inside, which meant that one could observe the street without being seen.

Burke rubbed his neck, his unease intensifying in leaps. How the hell the material managed to let in the daylight while blocking the view wasn’t half as interesting as the question of who had already been alerted to their presence in the city. This thing was too well preserved to not draw squatters.

Virdon finally turned his head to acknowledge him. „Pete,“ he said hoarsely. „Somewhere in these ruins could be technology that would allow us send a signal back to ANSA. So that the next ship won’t crash in that reservation. So that they can find us... find us and bring us home!“

„There won’t be a next ship, Al,“ Burke muttered. „Don’t delude yourself. They won’t bury another million dollars for two lost guys. If they have half a brain at ANSA, they’ve locked the bastard up in a mental asylum by now.“

„If they receive a signal, they’ll send another ship,“ Virdon insisted.

„There’s nothing here but dusty furniture,“ Burke said, trying not to let his tension show. He let his gaze travel over benches and tables that divided the room in elegant curves. „This was a bar, or a café, or whatever. A hairdressing salon. Let’s get the hell outta here.“

Virdon looked around once more, then nodded reluctantly. „Maybe we should try one of the towers...“

„We don’t have time for this goddamn expedition,“ Burke snapped. „Why are you in such a fucking hurry? If we find a way to travel back through time, we’ll have all the time in the world _here,_ because we’d arrive, I dunno, two minutes after liftoff _there,_ right?“

Virdon stopped in his tracks.

Then he turned around, and Burke was struck by the raw despair he saw in his eyes. „No,“ Virdon said hoarsely. „We don’t have all the time in the world. _I_ don’t have all the time in the world. I need to get home _now_.“

He turned away abruptly, and limped away. Burke gaped after him.

„What? What do you mean? Hey, Al!“

But Virdon steadfastly ignored him.


	3. Chapter 3

Virdon stepped out of the nautilus-inspired building and drew a deep breath. Damn Pete for yammering on and on about time travel and lotteries! What did he expect of him - to break down and make a teary-eyed confession that he had dreamed of his son choking on Sarin in a subway car?

Pete would just call him irrational. No, he’d call him _desperate,_ which was as accurate as it was condescending. Just like deciding to withhold the fact from him that they had travelled through time, when he had stumbled over it in Zaius’ private study. Burke hadn’t told him because he figured that the hope of being found by ANSA would keep him going, as long as he assumed that ANSA was still in existence.

_Well, it worked, Pete - too bad you don’t like the itinerary._

When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell on the apes, staring at him. Galen had slung a protective arm around Zana’s shoulders, glaring at him with the clear message to stop forcing his fiancée to endure the horrors of human history. After one look in Virdon’s face, though, Zana shrugged off Galen’s arm and stepped forward, closing the distance between them until she could grab his hand with both of hers.

„I don’t like it here,“ she whispered. „It’s too quiet. Where are all the birds?“

She was right, Virdon realized. In the ruins of Atlanta, everything had been covered by a thick blanket of greenery, and the silence had been one of wind in high grass and the rustling of little animals in the undergrowth... the silence of a buried battlefield. Birds had been singing in the trees, unaffected by the tragedy those ruins had born witness to.

But here, the only sounds were made by the wind that was strumming the spires and whistling through the ribs of the giant towers, and the rustling of dead leaves that it had carried into the polished corridors at their feet. Despite the patches of grass and vines that the creators of this complex had allowed to grow in designated pots climbing those towers, Virdon hadn’t seen any bird - or any other animal, for that matter - moving through them. It was as if the city kept all outsiders at a distance.

Before Virdon could say anything, Burke had caught up to him; Virdon wondered absently what had taken him so long. „Okay, so what’s your plan, Al?“ he gasped. „We can’t search every building in here, even if the damn mon... Urko wasn’t on our tail.“

„I know,“ Virdon admitted after a moment. „Let’s try to determine which of those buildings might’ve been an official one... perhaps we’ll find something that’ll give us an overview of the city - a map, or even some records... some clue what happened here. I’d actually prefer a map; we could go straight to their university, find their physics labs...“ It wasn’t even a plan, he admitted to himself; just some desperate poking around in the dark.

„Fine,“ Burke muttered, „an’ jus’ _how_ are you going to determine what’s a public and what’s a private building in here? They all look the same to me.“

That... was a legitimate question. The designer of this city had decided to make all the towers be the same model. Virdon wiped the sweat from his face and turned around to scan the area. Going by the size of those towers, they had to have been the residential complexes, while the conches were meant to provide services... shops, cafés, maybe even hairdressers, as Burke had jokingly suggested. Perhaps there was a third kind of building for the administrative and educational services? They would be all in one place, probably - maybe closer to the center.

„This way,“ he pointed down another white, winding path that led down into the shadowy canyons under the towers. He didn’t turn back to acknowledge the others’ disagreement; he wasn’t forcing anyone to come with him.

But he couldn’t stop now. Not when he could feel this world sinking its roots into his soul like ivy, choking him and dragging him to the ground, until he’d be content to serve the apes and never lift his gaze again. He’d take a woman from this world, and raise children who would never know anything else but servitude...

„Al.“

Burke waited until Virdon had turned around to face him.

„Let’s make a deal, okay?“ Burke spread his arms. „Let’s go on for another mile, and if we find anything, like your physics labs, or a map, or records, _anything_ , we’ll follow that lead. But if we don’t find anything, we’ll break this off.“ He hastily held up his hand when Virdon opened his mouth. „Hear me out! I’m sure there are hundreds of these ruins scattered from here to the Rockies, and once we’re out of Urko’s hunting grounds, we’ll have enough time to turn over every pebble in them. But this...“ he waved to encompass the whole, eerily silent place, „this was just a bad idea from the beginning, you gotta admit.“

For a while, Virdon said nothing. Burke and the apes were quiet, watching him; only the horses interrupted the wind-swept silence with an occasional snort, or shaking of their manes, jingling the metal bits of their gear. Galen fumbled with the saddlebags, throwing worried glances over his shoulder. The sun stabbed through the thick cover of clouds for a moment, illuminating a railing around a patch in the road. It was red - the only splash of color in an otherwise perfectly serene pattern of black, white, and carefully placed greenery.

He slowly limped towards it. The railing could have only one purpose: to protect people from falling into a gap... or a hole in the road. Maybe this was another entrance to a subway network. Or maybe there was another city under this city. If you wanted to preserve something for a very long time, you’d hide it in archives that the elements couldn’t reach so easily.

Underground.

It wasn’t a flight of stairs, Virdon saw when he came closer; it was a ramp, leading to a pair of doors that were torn and twisted, as if someone had used explosives to force them open - one of the few signs of destruction they had come across until now.

If someone had forced their way beyond those doors, something interesting must’ve been kept behind them.

Virdon turned around. „We don’t have to go another mile.“ He pointed at the entrance that was brooding in the shadows at the end of the ramp. „If this city holds any secrets, they’ll be down there.“

„The horses won’t go underground,“ Galen objected.

„And neither will I,“ Zana added, her fur bristling. „One time was enough for me. I _don’t_ want to know these secrets, Alan - and I have a feeling you won’t like them, either.“

„I don’t have to like them,“ Virdon said, „but I need to know the truth. I need to know what happened to my people, and I need to know if there is a way for me to return to them. You lost your home, Zana, but I lost my whole world. You don’t have to come with me... this is my story, not yours.“ He turned away, towards the darkness waiting for him.

Behind him, Burke heaved a sigh. „Jus’ wait a damn minute, Al, will ya? Let me get the torches, or we won’t find your secrets until they bite us in the ass.“

„You don’t have to come, either,“ Virdon said tiredly, without turning back. „I know you think this is a fool’s errand.“

Burke muttered something, Galen answered, equally low; Virdon slowly limped towards the gate, not caring what those two were discussing.

Then Burke came jogging after him, and pushed an unlit torch into his hand. „Yeah, I do, but if you get lost in there, I wanna know where you are so I can drag you out, without having to search for your dumb ass.

"An’ it’s my story, too.“

* * *

Galen clenched his jaw and turned around his axis, trying to scan every corner and shadow for suspicious movement. His gaze swept over gleaming facades, abandoned alleys, and the forlorn emptiness of the white, unnaturally smooth street they were standing on. In the distance, the spires of incredibly high towers were dissolving in the morning haze. The clouds had covered the sun again, a pale disc behind their gray vapor. Earlier, its light had made it appear as if these towers had been made from copper; now they were dark and dull like iron.

Peet had traded one of Galen’s daggers for his gun - a strange deal in Galen’s eyes, and a worrying one; if he allowed himself to think logically about it, he could only conclude that the human was expecting trouble in those tunnels. If it came to a fight, ricocheting bullets would be as dangerous for him and Alan as they would be for their attackers, so a knife was the better option.

Unsettling as that thought was, what made his fur stand on end was the conclusion that Peet was expecting trouble for him and Zana, as well - and a kind of trouble that made a _gun_ the weapon of choice.

Galen drew a slow, controlled breath through his nose, and tried to get his fur to settle. Peet had tried to be coy about it, but subterfuge wasn’t his forte, which would’ve been endearing at any other occasion. „’s just a precaution,“ he had said. „Better safe than sorry, right? There’s just five bullets left, so try to not shoot at shadows.“ With that, he had jogged after Alan, leaving him slack-mouthed and too stunned to demand an explanation.

And now he was left here, listening to the ghost winds and trying to stay calm and rational. It was impossible, Galen admitted in the privacy of his thoughts; this whole place made him uneasy, not in the tense, energized way that Urko set his blood boiling, but as a numb, dreamlike melancholy, as if he’d known this place a long time ago, but had forgotten how or when. It was as if he had stepped into someone else’s nightmare.

A human nightmare, by all accounts.

The book that had cost him his old life had actually been less exciting or scandalous than he had thought; Galen admitted to himself that he didn’t really understand Zaius’ panic about its content. Yes, humans had once ruled this world; but apes had taken the scepter away from them, and were now the uncontested masters, with humans being relegated not even to a status of servants, but of animals, devoid of even the most basic rights. It was a total victory, one that could as well have been celebrated, and rubbed into the humans’ faces, at every opportunity.

But standing amidst the silent witnesses of bygone human greatness, Galen began to understand why the Keepers of the Scrolls and the High Council had taken such pains to bury the whole history of human accomplishment. Humans had been great once; humans had been more powerful masters of this world than apes had ever managed to become; and human ingenuity, human spirit was something that was only sleeping... dreaming through the eons, like these ruins. They were still breathing alien majesty, a bold and forbidding imprint on the wilderness surrounding them. Not even the mutated creatures of the Forbidden Zone dared to enter this unholy place.

If humans remembered this past of theirs... Galen let his gaze sweep once more over the spires of needle-like towers, the bold, if broken arch of a bridge, the sweeping lanes of old streets, weaving over and under each other like a complicated tapestry.

If they remembered, they might wake up again. And then they might take back the throne.

He hoped that Alan would come back empty-handed. That he wouldn’t be able to alert his fellow humans back in the past of what would become of their dominion. If they learned about what lay in their future - could they prevent it? Erase this world like the flood erased footprints in the sand?

Erase his life... Zana’s life?

Maybe they wouldn’t need such esoteric means for that. Maybe whatever Peet had sensed, whatever had prompted him to give him his gun, was preparing to end their lives in this very moment. Galen fervently wished to have been more forceful when his father had offered, in a sudden bout of decency that most likely originated from his mother’s subtle prodding, to take Zana into his house, and under his protection.

„Do you regret now that you didn’t take up my father on his offer?“ he asked her.

Zana looked up, surprised; she had learned a long time ago not to start a conversation when he was hunting down a thought, and had probably been busy with spinning her own yarn. „Why would I regret being with you?“

„Well, I hope you’ll never regret _that,_ but I actually meant being _here.“_ Galen gestured at the eerie landscape around them. „You could be sitting in my mother’s living room right now, sipping tea, sewing baby clothes...“

„Wondering where the father of my baby is right now, or if he’s even still alive,“ Zana interrupted him dryly. „Yes, I can see how I’d enjoy myself, especially when your father arrives to join us for tea.“

„But you’d be safe,“ Galen insisted. „The baby would be safe...“

„And you’d never see either of us again, nor would we ever reunite with you,“ Zana pointed out. „Look what that is doing to Alan! He is crazy with grief!“

„Well, crazy is exactly the word I’d use,“ Galen muttered. „Going in there, crippled as he is...“ _Dragging us along, into danger..._

„Peet is with him,“ Zana said. „I wouldn’t worry about them.“

 _It’s not_ them _I’m worried about..._

Something clinked.

It was a faint sound, so faint that Galen couldn’t say from which direction it had come, so faint that he wasn’t sure if he hadn’t imagined it. He glanced to Zana, but she didn’t show any signs of concern. So she had probably not heard that sound. That faint, furtive sound.

Or maybe he _had_ imagined it. His overexcited imagination, and worry...

If he asked her now, she’d only start panicking. Galen’s nose twitched violently, and he gripped his gun until his fingers ached. Five bullets left... and then?

His gaze fell on the horses.

Tala and Ahpahchee stood tense, heads high, ears twitching; horses were prey, Galen reminded himself, they were naturally prone to sense approaching predators.

If he had imagined that sound, so had they.


	4. Chapter 4

Burke stopped to light his torch after just a few steps; what little daylight had fallen into the entrance didn’t reach beyond the gates. Virdon also stopped to wait for him, impatience radiating through his silence.

Burke didn’t really mind. If this had been a fallout shelter, their little trip would end at the first blast door, and then he’d force Al to abort this crazy mission. He was vaguely aware that forcing Virdon would probably involve brute force, but that was a problem he’d tackle when they reached that point. For now, he’d indulge his commander’s obsession - maybe the man would see sense when they literally hit a wall.

The torchlight revealed an unremarkable tunnel that lead downwards at a slight, but discernible angle, its walls a dull grey that looked like ordinary concrete, but pretty likely wasn’t. Beyond the flickering halo of their torches, the tunnel was pitch black and silent.

Burke suddenly understood Zana. He preferred the sky, too.

„What now?“ He kept his voice low, just in case.

Virdon hesitated, his gaze brushing over the naked walls and the equally naked floor. No rubble anywhere, Burke realized, following his gaze. That was what had rubbed him the wrong way since they had entered the city - no weeds, no rubble, everything was licked clean like a gnawed-off bone. Part of it was due to the strange, non-decaying material, which just didn’t produce any rubble, but it also indicated that nothing lived in these ruins, which was... strange. Usually, life didn’t lose any time before it crept back through every crevice, after civilization had left.

„We go down,“ Virdon murmured back in an equally low voice. „If something has outlasted the centuries, it’ll be in some sort of archive in the basement.“

„Terrific,“ Burke muttered, trying to hide his unease. Hell, he wasn’t some little kid, scaring himself with his own thoughts! „Here. Just in case...“ He handed Virdon the knife Galen had given him.

Virdon stared at it with a frown. „This city is empty.“

„Yeah, that’s why we’re whispering,“ Burke hissed. „Admit it, your spider sense is tingling like crazy. I know mine is, it’s like the spiders hung themselves on the fucking bell wire. Guess they don’t want to be around when the shit hits the fan.“

Virdon just huffed, but he took the knife.

They moved forward, keeping as silent as possible - because yeah, nobody home, Burke thought sarcastically. Their tiptoeing wouldn’t make any difference, anyway; the light from their torches would announce their presence to whatever lurked in the darkness, long before they’d have reached it.

His heartbeat picked up when he suddenly became aware that he could see the floor, and the edge where the floor met the walls, way beyond the edge of the torch’s halo. He blinked, and lowered the flame to the floor. He could see down the corridor, which was suddenly no longer black; its contours were dimly visible in a pale, gray light...

„Pete...“

Virdon was staring at the ceiling. Neon lights were glowing so faintly that they didn’t really throw a halo, or cast shadows from their bodies. Their light was too faint to really illuminate anything, just outlining the contours of the corridor. Like a row of landing lights.

Burke’s neck was _tingling._

„Al. Let’s go back,“ he whispered. „You can’t tell me that someone left the light on a thousand years ago, and it’s still burning.“

Virdon was still staring at the lights as if hypnotized. Finally, Burke saw his shoulders rise as he took a deep breath. „Don’t be silly, Pete,“ he whispered back. „Not even a solar collector would still work after all this time. This can mean only one thing... there are people here, somewhere. They might even have kept records of what had happened to this place.“

„I don’t wanna sound negative, Al,“ Burke whispered, more urgently, as Virdon began to move again, creeping farther down the corridor, „but considering our track record with this kind of ruins, I’m not too optimistic about these people. I mean, why didn’t they come out to say hi, and give us a copy of the city records? Something’s not right, Al, don’t tell me you don’t feel it!“

Virdon didn’t acknowledge him; Burke saw his shoulders tense as he kept creeping along the wall, cautious, but relentless.

_You obsessed, suicidal cowboy!_

Burke wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and unsheathed his own knife. Ahead of him, Virdon was setting his crutch on the floor without a sound, easing his other foot forward while supporting himself against the wall with the hand that was holding Galen’s boot knife.

_I could kick the crutch out from under him, knock him out, and haul his stubborn ass out of here before whatever lives in the basement wakes up._

The temptation was growing with each silent step. They only had their knives for self-defense, and Burke doubted that it would make a difference for Virdon, who still struggled with his lame leg, and would probably be crippled for the rest of his life, even if Galen had assured him that damaged nerves just needed a long time to heal.

_Time he won’t have if he gets us all killed here._

„Al.“

Virdon didn’t show any sign that he had heard him. Well, he had kept his voice low. No way to tell how far this corridor would transport his voice. Burke caught up with Virdon and grabbed his arm. „Al, let’s abort. C’mon, it’s far more probable that whoever lives down there is _un_ friendly. And we’re not equipped to defend ourselves. Not with just these knives.“

Virdon jerked his arm away. „I can’t stop now, Pete,“ he whispered. „Not when we’re so close. These ruins are far better preserved than Atlanta. I just... I _know_ I’ll find something here.“

„Yeah, I’m absolutely sure we’ll find _something_ here,“ Burke hissed. „Something that’ll kill us! You’re endangering all our lives with your stu... with this obsession! We have a pregnant woman waiting upstairs, in case you’ve forgotten!“

Virdon stumbled on for a few more steps before he came to a halt. Burke stayed where he was, giving him space, giving him the opportunity to come to his senses. To make a rational decision.

„Pete...“ Virdon’s voice sounded thoughtful.

„Yeah?“

„C’mere.“

Burke frowned and closed the distance to see what Virdon was staring at. He had a bad feeling about- „Holy shit.“

The light of Virdon’s torch fell on the lean heaps of four human skeletons. At least Burke assumed that it had been four people, because he counted only four skulls. But the bones were scattered over the whole corridor, as if animals had torn them apart - hopefully post mortem. Burke rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth and threw a suspicious look down the corridor. „So,“ he growled. „Maybe those gentlemen can convince you that coming here was a bad idea?“

Virdon crouched down and began to tug at the scraps of fabric that were still clinging to the ribcage of the nearest corpse. „No uniforms,“ he murmured, „of course it’s hard to tell after all this time, but it looks as if they’d been civilians... Can you hold that?“ He handed Burke his torch and began to nestle at a dark bundle that was somehow tied to the corpse.

With a last glance down the corridor, Burke knelt down and picked up the skull. „No bullet hole,“ he murmured, and scanned the floor, even brushed some bones aside. „And no shells anywhere. Don’t know how these guys died, but they weren’t shot, ‘s far as I can see.“

„But they also had no chance to use these,“ Virdon murmured and pulled something out of the rotting backpack.

A handgrenade. Burke let out a voiceless whistle. „Now why would someone go down there with a dozen of these babies? Gimme your thoughts on this, Al, I really think I need an analysis here.“

They weren’t of a type he knew, but this whole city was probably from their future, going just by the architecture and the non-corroding materials they had found, so of course their weaponry had to be more developed, too. But they were still recognizable enough that he was confident he knew how to use them.

Virdon was silent for a moment. Then he looked up. „These backpacks are too decayed to hold them - how many do you think you can carry?“

Burke gaped at him. „Wha- you’re not _still_ goin' down there?“

Virdon began to stuff the grenades into the pockets of his vest. „Sure I am. You said that we were insufficiently armed, with just our knives.“ He nodded towards the backpack. „Now we aren’t.“

„In case you hadn’t noticed, their grenades didn’t do _shit_ for them,“ Burke snapped. „They still died, they had no chance to use them on whatever got them in here! They should’ve taken whatever they’d used to blast open the entrance with them, only I got the feeling they were ambushed, which means they were ambushed in a fucking _corridor_ where the attackers couldn’t hide, so what does that tell you about these attackers?“

He stabbed a finger at the heap of bones at their feet. „They didn’t have a chance, and _we_ won’t have a chance, either! This is madness, Al, madness!“

They stared at each other in the flickering yellow light of their torches; Virdon’s eyes were stony, the eyes of a man who had set himself on a track that he was now doomed to follow to the end.

„You can turn back any time, Pete,“ he said finally. „I’m not forcing you to come. But I, I can’t. I can’t turn my back on the possibility that down there... down there could be my only chance to send a signal home.“

„It’s much more likely that whatever’s down there is gonna kill you.“

Virdon shrugged. „That’s a chance I’m willing to take.“ He turned and limped away, deeper into the darkness.

Burke cursed and quickly snatched up some grenades. He stuffed his pockets just like Virdon had, and their collective weight was threatening to drag his pants down with every step. He could only hope that the waistband would hold.

He had to give it to Al, this raid _had_ been productive. Being properly armed was a nice feeling, for a change. Now if they could just go back and return with their backpacks for a second run, they’d stand a good chance to reach the mountains without having to worry about Urko. Hell, he almost wished for the black menace to show his ugly face...

With a sigh, Burke returned to reality. Chances were that they’d stumble over some mutated shit, and waste their precious grenades on it.

If they got a chance to use them at all.

* * *

Zana watched as Galen removed the saddlebags from Tala’s and Ahpahchee’s backs, and began to rub down the horses, then checked their legs and hooves, and began to repack their belongings. His movements were stiff and jerky, and he stopped every few moments to peer up and down the street.

It made her increasingly nervous.

„What did Peet tell you when he came to get the torches?“ she finally asked.

Galen didn’t answer immediately; he fastened the repacked saddlebags on Tala’s back and tugged at them to test their balance. „That he’ll try to herd Alan back to us as quickly as possible,“ he said finally. He straightened and surveyed the street again. „I’ll be happy when these ruins are far behind us,“ he murmured, more to himself than to her.

„Is something wrong?“ There had to be something wrong. Galen wasn’t given to irrational fears. Zana felt slightly dizzy as her heart began to pound the old, terrifying drumbeat against her breastbone. Blood was rushing in her ears, pulsating in her fingertips.

Galen didn’t look at her as he handed her the horses’ ropes. „No, don’t worry, I’m just... I just want to be ready to leave when they come back.“

He jogged down the ramp and through the gate that Alan and Peet had vanished into, and for a heart-stopping moment, Zana thought he’d go after them, and leave her to wait outside all by herself. The knee-melting relief she felt when he returned a moment later turned to alarm when she saw the crooked metal rod he was carrying.

„Atiba Galen, you tell me what is going on here _right now!“_ Because something _was_ going on, and not knowing was frightening her more than anything he could tell her. Even the demons from the books of her childhood wouldn’t frighten her as much as this cold, waiting silence all around her, and Galen’s tension, his penetrating stares into the shadows and edges of this alien place.

„It’s just a precaution,“ Galen said nervously, „who knows what kind of disfigured beasts roam these ruins? And I only have five bullets left, Peet told me that parts of the gate had been ripped out, and that I could get this,“ he waved the rod, „as a, a, backup weapon...“

Something clinked.

Galen’s head whipped around. His knuckles went white around the rod.

Zana’s heart was hammering against her ribs in a rapid, desperate rhythm. _Run, run, run, run, run, run, run!_

„You’ve heard that before? You heard that before!“ she hissed. _„What is that?“_

She could see Galen’s shoulders rise and fall rapidly. He was gripping the rod and the gun as if he couldn’t decide which one to use first. „I don’t know,“ he murmured, „but it’s too furtive to be friendly.“

 _Oh Alan, where are you?_ Zana threw a hasty glance towards the black maw of the gate behind her; but no sound came from it. The humans were probably too deep inside the tunnel to notice what was going on outside.

„We... we're so exposed here,“ she said with a trembling voice. "Let's lead the horses down the ramp, and behind the gates. We can defend ourselves better...“

„We’ll just get trapped in there,“ Galen muttered, but he grabbed the ropes from her, and dragged the horses towards the gate. The animals moved as stiffly as him, jerking up their heads, their ears pressed flat to their heads.

They had heard it, too. It hadn’t been her imagination, Galen’s imagination. Zana hastily followed them, feeling irrationally reassured by the walls rising up to her sides - like a rabbit ducking into a furrow, out of sight of predators.

She saw Galen cast a worried glance at the sky that had overcast again and turned into gunmetal, promising another storm. The white walls enclosing the ramp glowed weakly in the blueish light, and the wind had picked up and was now whispering all around them, strumming the sharp edges and metal spires of the ruins into a moaning choir that concealed the soft sounds of their unknown enemies. Now it was impossible to tell from which direction they were stalking them, and the weakening light did the rest. They wouldn’t be able to tell a flapping piece of scrap from a darting shadow of an attacker anymore.

„Go inside,“ Galen ground out. „With the horses. I can’t see from where they’ll be coming.“ He handed her the ropes, and Zana took them with shaking hands.

„I want your knife,“ she said. Galen blinked at her.

„A knife won’t do you much good,“ he pointed out.

„It’s better than nothing. You’re not going to let me stand here barehanded, what if there are too many of them to fight them all on your own?“

He stared at her for a moment, then handed her his second knife without a word.

She took it, half expecting that it would soothe her; she had seen Peet touch the hilt of his knife when he was stressed, and it always seemed to calm him down. But whatever magic Peet’s knife and the gun were working on him, was lost to her. The knife was heavy, surprisingly heavy for something so sleek, and warm from Galen’s body heat, and both the weight and the heat made it feel _real,_ but she felt as cold and dreamlike as before, caught in a gray nightmare that she couldn’t shake off.

They were on the other side of the gate now, the horses even more spooked than before - like Zana, they didn’t like being underground, even if it was just at the very edge. Or maybe they didn’t like the darkness engulfing them here, pressing against them from behind. Zana threw a hasty glance over her shoulder. The tunnel was pitch black and silent... but it seemed to her that the silence was breathing, and watching.

She could _never_ have walked into it. How the humans had done it, she had no idea. Peet hadn’t looked very happy, at least.

„Whatever it is, it must come through these gates if it wants to get to us,“ Galen said. His nose twitched as he stared at the patch of blueish light before them. To Zana, it looked too big, too open, the doors twisted shards of metal that couldn’t be closed anymore. On the other hand, the thought of barricading themselves _inside_ the gate choked her breath. It would be like being buried alive.

„I may only have five bullets left,“ Galen murmured as to himself, „but the first five attackers will meet their death exactly where I decide they will.

„Not bad for a pen-nibbler.“

Zana lowered her gaze to the knife in her hand. _And what about the sixth attacker? Or the sixtieth?_

A knife wouldn’t be enough. Neither would be an iron rod.

With a sniff, Zana tucked the knife under her belt and dug into Tala’s saddlebags for the ropes to hobble her and Ahpahchee. They were _not_ going to die here, they would fight like mandrills, if necessary, and they’d need the horses to outrun whatever was sneaking up to them. Alan and Peet would turn around and race to help them - she faltered for a moment; Alan wouldn’t be able to race, no matter how dire the need - anyway, they would rejoin them as quickly as possible, and then they would escape together, and she was making sure that the horses didn’t bolt and leave them behind in the meantime. And it was better than standing here and fretting, like Galen was.

She slung the ropes around the horses’ forelegs like Alan had shown her. During his recovery, after Zana had sat with him in the wagon day after day in the brooding heat, patiently tending to his wound, teaching him their script, teaching him - and Peet - _keppa_ and _tiska,_ to pass the time, Alan had struggled to find something he could teach her in return. He had taught her - and Peet, who had for some reason latched onto their gelding - how to manage the horses; among other things, how to keep them from wandering off during their nightly grazing.

If only he’d see reason and break off his exploration, she thought feverishly, so they could leave this nightmarish, alien tomb!

It was getting even darker. The rain would begin to pour down any moment now.

And then she heard Galen growl, a deep, primitive sound that she hadn’t thought him even capable of, cultured, soft-spoken Galen...

Zana spun around and stared up the ramp.

A low shadow rushed down the ramp and towards the gate, and Galen dropped the metal rod and fired. The gunshot echoed from the naked walls and joined with the next shot, and the next, and the next, and the next, as Galen took out another shadow, and another, and another, but still more were pouring over the edge and down the ramp, like a black flood.

And then the magazine was empty, and they were still coming, and coming, and Zana ripped the knife from her belt and braced herself against the creatures whose contours seemed to dissolve into the blue-black morning. Galen had dropped the gun and exchanged it for the rod and moved between her and the twisting, snarling bodies, in a doomed attempt to shield her from their mindless fury. Behind her, the horses were yelling and trying to run past her. Zana hung onto the ropes, trying to stop their momentum; it helped that she had hobbled them a moment earlier. They were kicking at the beasts that were swarming them, trampling some of the bodies.

One of the things jumped at her and for a moment, Zana saw nothing but rows and rows of teeth, thin and sharp like needles.

Then its head was gone, chucked away by Galen’s iron rod in an explosion of bone and blood. Zana stared at him, and he froze for a moment, caught in her gaze. His lips were peeled back into a deadly grin, eyes savage and uncomprehending.

Zana gripped her knife harder and felt her lips curl in response.


	5. Chapter 5

The corridor was sloping downward at an angle that was clearly noticeable now; no stairs, just a ramp going down, and down. Burke wasn’t sure if stairs would’ve been better if they had to hightail it later, what with Al’s bad leg - they’d probably be fucked either way. What’s worse was that the corridor went down in a straight line, without curving, or turning corners, as far as he could tell in the weak light, so if he had to throw one of the grenades, they stood a good chance of blowing themselves up in the process. He had no idea if these were from the 22nd or the 27th century; no idea how big their blast radius would be. If he tried one, he’d prefer to be able to take cover first.

„Al, I swear to god, if you don’t turn around now, I’ll smash your fucking crutch over your stubborn skull and drag you back to the surface myself,“ he hissed. „This was a stupid mission from the start - you _knew_ we wouldn’t have enough time to really go looking for clues... and not enough firepower to do it safely, either!“ And there was no way to know when they’d even find something to explore - it was entirely possible that their journey would end at another gate, one that the dead explorers hadn’t gotten the opportunity to blow up. He fervently wished for so much luck.

Virdon didn’t react; if anything, he was moving faster now, as if something was pulling him downward on an invisible string. As if he was hypnotized.

_That’s it. I’ll knock him out, haul his sorry ass out of here..._

But when he caught up with Virdon, Burke saw what had been calling out to his friend.

Light.

Cold, blue-white light shining out into their corridor from another gateway below them, still weak, but stronger than the gray glow that had been assaulting his eyes until now. If he had needed any proof that these ruins were inhabited, that light was it.

Who lived here? _How_ did they live? What did they eat?

_Not me, that’s for sure!_

He grabbed Virdon’s arm. „Slow down, Al,“ he whispered. „Don’t wanna stumble into these people before we know if they’re friendly or not.“

They crept closer to the gate that would’ve been the end of their journey if it had been closed; Burke guessed that his puny grenades wouldn’t have made a dent in the heavy metallic door. Unfortunately, it stood a bit ajar, wide enough to squeeze through, wide enough to let that light shine out into the dark corridor.

For some reason, Burke suddenly remembered how deep sea fish sometimes used the same strategy to lure prey.

But Virdon had already slipped through the gap. For someone on a crutch, the man was too damn agile. Burke clutched his grenades and followed him.

The hall behind that door was empty; but Burke noticed that the corridors leading away - or into - the hall didn’t have doors, and weren’t lighted. Anything could be watching them from there, under the cover of darkness. And the little hairs on his neck were standing on end, assuring him that there was _something_ in those corridors, and urging him to grab Virdon and get the hell out of here.

His commander seemed to be devoid of instinct, though, or was simply too stubborn to listen to it; he slowly limped out into the hall, maybe ten steps, before he finally stopped and surveyed what could be seen in the light of the neon lamps along the wall.

The room had the aura of a waiting area, like a station hall; and when Virdon half-turned, and gestured to the ceiling, Burke wasn’t surprised to find old inscriptions above the tunnels. Not... not really surprised, no. But it still filled him with a strange feeling to read the designations in plain old English, knowing that they had to be close to a thousand years old.

_Gate One_

_Gate Two_

_Gate Three_

_Decontamination_

_Hospital_

_Morgue_

_..._

Decontamination? Burke flicked a glance to Virdon, wanting to ask him... but Virdon had wandered into the back of the hall, near the tunnels, and was now bending down to pick up something. Something small.

Against his better judgment, and ignoring his instincts that were yelling at him to turn back, get the hell out of here, Burke crossed the hall to join him. „Found something?“

Virdon made a move as if to hand him the thing, but Burke took a step back. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to touch it. It was narrow, long, and yellow.

„It’s a doll,“ Virdon said. „A child must’ve lost it in the shuffle, while they were being led underground.“

Burke looked again at the thing, really looked this time, and realized that the yellow was a miniature radiation suit, complete with a helmet. The face behind the visor was familiar.

„Radiation Barbie?“ Leave it to capitalism to make a dollar even in the midst of the apocalypse.

„Well, at least we now have an idea what destroyed our civilization,“ Virdon murmured.

„Yeah, well, could’ve also been a deadly virus, or an asteroid,“ Burke muttered, „but my bet was that we nuked ourselves to hell.“ He snatched the doll from Virdon’s hand and flicked it aside. „Al, I’m not gonna go down those tunnels, and you won’t, either. This place is creeping me out, and if whoever keeps the generators running was friendly, they’d be here by now with a tray of brownies and the offer to show us around. But-“

Virdon suddenly held up a hand, a look of alarm on his face, and Burke fell silent. Virdon turned his head and stared at Gate Two, and Burke felt adrenaline rush down his arms, filling him with white fire.

They listened.

Then Burke heard it - scratching noises, a faint, rapid patter, getting louder.

Coming up the tunnel.

He grabbed Virdon’s arm. „Doesn’t sound to me like they’re bringing a tray of brownies!“

This time, he didn’t have to plead with Virdon. They both turned and hurried back towards the entrance, and out into the corridor. Burke tried to close the gate, but the metal door was frozen in place. He caught up to Al, who was hop-limping up the slope, his breathing echoing from the naked walls, heavy and loud. Despite Virdon’s efforts, he wasn’t making much headway. Whatever was coming up the tunnel would be all over them in mere moments.

_I’ve got the grenades. I’ll blow whatever this is to pieces._

Or maybe they wouldn’t detonate at all - how many centuries had they been rotting away under those corpses? Burke felt cold dread lodging in his gut at that thought.

The pattering noise was in the corridor now. Burke threw a hasty glance over his shoulder, but he and Virdon were farther away from the weak glow of the hall now, and all he could see were shadowy movements oozing through the gate, an impression of many bodies, but not with the right proportions. He stared at them for a moment, assessing their speed, then turned around to gauge Virdon’s progress.

Not good. He jogged up to Virdon. „We need to run faster, Al, I don’t think these things are human-“

Something cracked far ahead of them, a weak sound, echoing down the corridor. A gunshot, and the volume told Burke how far down they had moved.

Another shot, and another, all five bullets fired. Then silence.

The pattering of many feet behind them, louder now. Closer, and getting closer still.

Or maybe not feet at all.

Burke grabbed Virdon’s crutch and threw it away, took him by the arm, and sped up.

* * *

For a frozen moment, a terrible curiosity tempted Virdon to face the source of the noise; it was tearing at him like a rip tide, pulling him towards the black maw of the tunnel, whispering to him that he’d _see,_ he’d finally _know..._

Burke’s hand clamped around his arm and broke his fascination. He turned around and hastily limped towards the gate, disappointment burning in his chest. They had finally approached a _real_ chance to uncover the secrets of this place, only to be stopped by what sounded like a litter of rats...

But aggressive rats in great numbers could be dangerous, too. If the bites got infected... it was just unusual that they’d actively attack. Even rats only attacked when cornered.

Maybe they weren’t rats.

 _I wish I could’ve seen what’s really down there._ For some reason, Virdon felt certain that humans had long deserted the deep crypts under the city. Something else had taken residence down there, something that was determined to keep them out, keep them away from their legacy...

Burke was beside him, bristling with panic. „We need to run faster, Al, I don’t think these things are human-“

He tore the crutch out of his hand and dragged him along, and the urgency in his voice and his grip shook Virdon out of his dazed musings, making him gasp as the dark tide receded. He found himself stranded in a bleak tunnel, naked and blinking, and they were under attack, and they were deep under the city, with no place to hide or to hole up.

It wasn’t pain that was slowing him down now, with adrenaline flooding him and drowning out all signals from his inflamed nerve. It was the fact that his nerve hadn’t been able to fully control the muscles in his leg for weeks, and now, without the pain, he became aware for the first time how wobbly and unsure it felt - as if it could break down under him any moment. He was grateful for Burke’s hand under his arm, supporting him as much as he was dragging him along, but at the same time, he felt incredibly guilty.

_I’m slowing both of us down._

If their pursuers caught up to them, it would be because of him. Burke could’ve outrun them easily, he’d be up in the street by now.

Virdon’s shirt was drenched with sweat, sticking to his chest. They had to struggle upwards now, on their way back, and his leg was shaking, and getting numb, and he was dragging it with him like a piece of wilful meat, heavy and tingling-

„Jesus Christ,“ Burke gasped. He let go of Virdon all of a sudden, shoving him against the wall, and Virdon stumbled and fell, bracing his hands against it in the last moment. He turned around to see what had spooked Burke.

The corridor behind them was crawling with... creatures.

He couldn’t see them clearly in the weak glow of the emergency lights, but they were too small for normal humans - they had the size of little children, and for a moment, Virdon was gripped by the horrifying notion that Burke was about to throw a grenade into a crowd of preschoolers, frightened children who were rushing towards them for help, glad that two adults had finally found them after everyone else had died and had abandoned them in that lightless bunker deep in the Earth...

But then he saw that they were were coming at them on all fours.

And some of them were running along the ceiling like giant geckos.

A tingling sensation brushed over Virdon’s arms and neck, as every hair on his body stood on end. Whatever was rushing towards them wasn’t human anymore. If it ever had been.

_„Get down!“_

He fell flat on his belly and covered his head with his arms. It wouldn’t help much if Burke had miscalculated the distance-

The detonation shook the floor, and he felt a second shudder as the ceiling came down. Burke’s hand clasped like an iron vise around his arm and dragged him back on his feet before he could process-

A sharp pain flashed through his calf as sharp teeth bit down, and then dozens of knives were slashing his back as the creatures began to claw their way up towards his neck, Burke’s hand was gone, and Virdon threw himself against the wall, again and again, until he felt bones crack, and something warm and soft running down his back.

More creatures were attacking him, biting down into his arms, and he couldn’t reach the knife in his belt, they were hanging on his arms like lead weights, tearing at his flesh. He kicked at them, but they were sturdy, skittering away into the darkness while others took their place. Panic rushed over him, hot and acrid, and he swung his arm against the wall, smashing the creature’s skull; it stopped gnawing, but its teeth were still buried in his arm, jaw locked in death like ant mandibles.

And then Burke was there, slashing and stabbing, and for a moment, the chaos subsided. Virdon stomped on another creature that was tearing at his leg, and then Burke was grabbing his arm again. „Gotta run before the rest finds a way through the rubble!“

The creature was still clamping down on his arm, and with the immediate danger gone, disgust was replacing panic now. „Get that thing off me!“

Burke cursed, wedged his knife between its jaws, and forced them open. „Okay, go, go, go!“

Virdon clutched his arm, trying to stop the bleeding, and stumbled on, trying not to trip over the piles of bones they had passed earlier. Burke let go of him to snatch up the rotting backpack, but the fabric tore with a ripping sound, and he cursed and just grabbed another grenade for the one he had thrown at their attackers.

They should’ve taken the hint and aborted, like Burke had demanded when they had found the unlucky explorers.

He had suggested it more than once. And he had been right. This had been the second time that an ancient city turned out to be a deadly trap as soon as they disturbed its surface, like a dormant virus, the remnant of an equally deadly past.

_Beware the beast Man, for he is the harbinger of death..._

He had heard Galen shoot moments ago. But he’d had just five bullets left... and since then, only silence. What was happening up there?

_This is my fault..._

His leg cramped up, and he stumbled. Only Burke’s grip kept him upright. „Come on, Al, don’t break down now, we’re almost there!“

Virdon pressed the heel of his hand into the scar, trying to make it shut up by sheer force of will, and hobbled on. „I’m slowing you down, Pete...“ he ground out.

„Yeah, don’t matter, I’ve got some more grenades,“ Burke said absently. He had turned his head and was peering down the corridor. Virdon didn’t dare to look back; at least there were no sounds now-

„Ah, damn.“

Whatever it was that Pete had seen, it wasn’t good.

Virdon strained to speed up, new sweat pouring down his back.


	6. Chapter 6

The things were everywhere, scuttling like bugs, impervious to his blows. Galen whirled the rod, metal singing through the air, a deadly melody punctuated by hollow cracks when he hit a pale skull. The skull was the only point that was susceptible to damage: hit it, smash the bone in an explosion of blood and brain, and the creature dropped, and stayed down, motionless, silent-

... but they were all silent, while they were swarming them, climbing up his legs, the screams around him were from the horses, and from Zana, _Zana,_ but she sounded furious, not panicked, and from himself-

He was screaming, and snarling, and beating, and stomping on the things’ backs, but they just threw themselves sideways with a slapping sound that reminded him of fat bugs, and wiggled out from under his feet. Bile was rising in his throat, and he grabbed the rod with both hands, raised it over his head and brought it down, once, twice, but it bounced off the creature’s leathery hide, and the thing raced off into the darkness.

Galen went back to aiming for their heads, chucking one off its neck like a stuffed leather ball, he had never been good at that game, Melvin had loved it. He whirled around in the blue dusk, hit a face he hadn’t realized was there, they were all around him now. He had moved into the middle of the corridor, away from the wall, bad choice, that wall had been protecting his back, and he had Zana positioned there, and now she was surrounded by these things, he couldn’t see her clearly in the shadows, just her movements, frantically hacking and kicking. Kicking was useless, a waste of energy, but he had lost his voice, his speech, he could only growl, the horses were kicking and hopping around, and the scent of blood filled his nose.

He couldn’t say if he was covered by his own blood or that of the beasts that were crawling up his legs again, shredding his pants with razor-sharp claws, biting into his thighs with those needle-shaped teeth in their gaping mouths. He was dimly aware that they had fingers like apes, just smaller, tiny hands grabbing at him, trying to tear him to the ground.

_Need to get out here... trapped..._

He tried to call Zana, but he couldn’t even find her name in his mind anymore. He still knew who she was, mate, mother, _friend,_ but speech had fled him and he just howled out his rage, and his urgency, lips drawn so far back that his face hurt.

She got his meaning, somehow, maybe by the same savage instinct that had robbed him of civilization, and grabbed for the horses’ ropes. She dragged them towards the entrance, still stabbing at the attacking beasts, plunging the knife into their eyes, blinding them, killing them without remorse, without hesitation, and the horses caught on to her intent, and started racing towards the weak light, dragging her along now, trampling over the jumping bodies of the creatures, and Galen still hadn’t found an animal that was remotely similar to what was tearing at their limbs.

He stumbled after her through the gate, and a cool gust hit him with a sudden, unexpected moist slap that somehow woke up a bit of rational thought in him, like waking up from a bad dream. The creatures were still scuttling down the ramp from the street above, but Galen thought there weren’t so many of them now anymore, the gaps between them were wider, and hope flooded down his aching arms and he started lobbing at the things with renewed vigor. His legs were burning, from exertion, or from the gashes they had sliced into his flesh, but there was open sky above him, and the horses seemed to aim their kicks, and Zana was striking with deadly accuracy, and maybe they’d make it up the ramp. They were already halfway to the street.

And then what? Where to go? Galen jogged the last steps up the ramp to catch up to Zana and the horses, and brought his rod down at one of the pale beasts before it could jump onto his mate’s back. The rod sunk into the bone, and bright red blood splattered into his face and on his lips, and he hastily rubbed his sleeve over his face. For some reason, the creature's blood struck him as tainted - as if he’d catch a sickness if it entered his mouth.

In the twilight, he could finally make out their features - they were only as tall as children, but running on all four, with jerky, angular movements that reminded him of lizards. They had no fur, but they weren’t reptiles, either... skin as pale and naked as a human, but their eyes huge and black and protruding, with flat faces. Not human. Couldn’t be humans, not even disfigured humans.

He reached Zana, and they were standing back to back now, weapons poised, the horses dancing around them, still hobbled by their fetters, but kicking at their attackers, that were circling them now, more cautious after the initial wave of attack hadn’t brought a swift victory.

„Need to flee,“ Galen ground out, his tongue still clumsy in his mouth. „Too many to kill.“

„Alan and Peet...“

„Their decision to go in.“ And who knew, if they had stumbled upon these things down there, they might not even be alive anymore.

„I’m not leaving them here!“ He couldn’t see her face, but her voice was as hard as the steel in her hand. No use debating with her. No time, either. The creatures were gathering into clumps, clearly preparing for their next attack.

Galen turned his head, looking for somewhere to hole up, somewhere better defensible than that wide-open gate, near enough for the humans to find them, near enough that Zana would follow him.

His eyes found a building, round and twisted, similar to the one the humans had disappeared in for a moment, before Alan had honed in on that cursed tunnel. Only one entrance - small entrance. Another trap, but maybe better defensible. He pointed. „There. Take the horses, I cover you.“

The creatures leaped at their little group as soon as they made a move towards the shell-like building, as if the swarm knew that they’d be lost to them if they made it across the threshold. Too many, too many to bat away, Galen felt the rod jerk in his hand, almost lost his grip. He tore at it, fingers cramping with the effort, and while his weapon was locked, the things were climbing him, their gaping jaws angling for his throat, rows and rows of teeth, too many of them, unnatural-

Zana’s knife slammed into the creature’s left eye, through the socket and into the brain, and the liquid from the eyeball drenched her bloodied fist, and the rod came loose, finally, and Galen had the sudden inspiration to use it like a spear, stabbing it into the mass of bodies, puncturing the leathery bodies between thorny ribs, separating vertebrae, step for step for step across the walkway and towards the curved entrance of the shell, towards safety. The horses balked, not wanting to be trapped in another enclosed space, but this gate was small, and defensible.

As long as he had still some strength left. Galen filled the entrance, legs spread, rod warm and bloody in his hands, gasping for breath. His reserves were dwindling, he could feel exhaustion shivering in his bones.

If the humans didn’t come out of that tunnel soon, he’d have to use that rod on his own mate, just to take her to safety. She’d never forgive him. She’d be forever convinced that the humans had died because he hadn’t waited for them. But he was willing to bear her wrath, if only she’d live.

The creatures were creeping across the street. Galen braced himself, wishing for his madness to return.

* * *

The pale square of the corridor’s mouth was like a Fata Morgana, beckoning them, but being forever beyond their reach; and whatever was coming for them had found a way through the cracks in the rubble of the caved-in corridor, and was catching up with them.

Burke cursed as razor-sharp claws sliced at his calves every few steps, as if the things were playing with them, keeping the pace but refraining from tearing them apart for now. But as long as he was forced to prop up Virdon, he couldn’t activate another grenade.

„Let go of me,“ Virdon gasped, as if he’d read his thoughts. „You’re faster... need to save Zana... and...“

„Shut up, Colonel,“ Burke snapped, and tightened his grip around Virdon’s arm. „’m not leaving you behind... not leaving _anyone_ behind...“

And then they were out of the tunnel, and stumbling into another nightmare.

Burke let go of Virdon, pushing him to the side of the opening so he wouldn’t be hit by the shock wave, and hurled a grenade into the corridor behind him, then another one, ignoring the creatures that were climbing all over him now. Virdon stumbled forward and plunged his knife into one of the creature's huge, bulging eyes, tearing it off Burke's shoulder.

 _Eyes of a night creature,_ Burke realized absently. So why had there been lights on down there?

And then he didn’t have time to think anymore.

The ground under him shuddered as the corridor caved in, and Burke hurled a third grenade into its lightless depth for good measure, but these things were _everywhere_ now, coming down the walls, pouring down the ramp, a mass of pale, naked bodies, too small to be human, moving in the wiggling jerks of reptiles or insects, but clearly mammals, from what Burke could see. Furless, with huge eyes and bulging foreheads, faintly human...

No, not human. But their ancestors must’ve been, a long time ago. They still had hands and feet, even if their hips were deformed so much that Burke doubted they were able to walk upright. They made hissing sounds, but it didn’t seem to be a language. Despite this, they were moving in a remarkably coordinated way, like ants.

His knees buckled as they swarmed him, clamping on his arms, immobilizing them, he couldn’t hack at them, he couldn’t raise his arms anymore to protect his throat, they were snapping at his throat now, and then Virdon was there, eyes wild, his face a snarling mask, tearing them off Burke, slashing and stomping and smashing them against the wall again and again, but they twisted in his hands and their skulls didn’t connect with the wall, just their strange, deformed hands-

„Peet! Peet, over here!“

Zana’s voice, shrill and breathless, somewhere up on the street, more of these things were probably crawling over her just now, where was Galen? Horses?

Burke stumbled and almost fell. Something metallic scraped over the ground, and when he looked down, it was his gun. „Betsy...“

Stupid to pick it up, useless piece of wood and metal, the magazine was empty, and he didn’t have any bullets anymore, just the...

... the grenades...

But he couldn’t throw them here, would be a waste, he’d just kill two or three of them, and he didn’t have enough grenades for that kind of indulgence...

He couldn’t remember how they made it up the ramp, couldn’t even remember if he had dragged Virdon along or if he made it without his help. He was too busy stabbing the monstrous little critters to look around. It was Virdon who grabbed his arm and pointed across the street, to another conch, just like the one they had entered earlier this morning.

There was Galen in the entrance, bashing in skulls left and right, like a simian demon straight out of his nightmares.

He couldn’t see Zana anywhere... she was probably inside. With the horses. God, he hoped they had managed to keep the horses. They’d need them to outrace those creeps. Burke grabbed Virdon under the arm again and dragged him towards the conch. _„We need to get outta here!“_

From then on, everything was a haze, a nightmarish slashing and stabbing and kicking without making any progress anywhere, only the sensation of warm blood gushing over his hands standing out, and his own blood, hot and thin, pouring from his body from a myriad of bites and slashes, and Al at his side, hacking and kicking and _enjoying himself,_ or maybe he wasn’t grinning, maybe he was snarling-

Galen there, all of a sudden, his robe torn, blood slicking his fur, and a dazed fury in his eyes that made Burke fear that he wouldn’t even recognize him, and bash his head in with that blood-crusted metal rod that he was swinging furiously. Like in that corridor, in Kira’s clinic, that frozen moment of staring him down-

Still more and more of these creatures crawling towards them, and he was bleeding, they were all bleeding, even the horses, and _where the hell were they coming from?_ He stopped for a moment, gasping, trying to get an overview, they had to come from _somewhere,_ a nest, an ant trail...

Yeah. There. One building, spewing forth more and more of them. Burke sprinted across the street, ignoring the alarmed cries behind him, and lunged, throwing another grenade-

He dove behind one of the mushrooms just as the grenade detonated, and suddenly there was silence; and Al and Galen were killing off the last two dozen creatures that were still coming at them-

Burke stabbed at one of them that had somehow found its way to where he was leaning against the base of the mushroom thing (Virdon had called them something else, but he couldn’t remember), and it skittered away. There was blood everywhere, on his hands, on the ground, in his eyes. His clothes were clinging to him, wet and cold from blood, the creatures’, and his own. He felt tired, and chilly, and the adrenaline was leaving his body so quickly that everything was suddenly dark and muted.

„Zana? _Zana!“_

Burke blinked.

Galen. Galen racing around, head swiveling like a searchlight, bloodied rod still gripped tightly.

He struggled to his feet, calling out for her, too. „Zana, baby? Where are you? Zana?“

Virdon was stumbling along the outer wall of the conch, face white with exhaustion and dread. „Zana? Zana!“

They spread out, sweeping the entire thing, but met up at the entrance only moments later.

Zana was gone.

Virdon was swaying on his feet, panic blazing in his eyes. Probably felt responsible for the whole fuck-up. „They must’ve dragged her away, but they, they can’t have gotten far!“

„They didn’t drag her into the tunnel, in any case,“ Burke said darkly. He had checked it - it was blocked for good. „Even if one of those critters could wiggle through, Zana’s body doesn’t fit through any of the cracks.“ He shook his head. „They took the back door, or one of the windows - some of them were broken. Al’s right, we can still find her. Get the horses, I’ll have a look.“

The horses had been crowding in a corner, trembling, bleeding, trying to kick them, so Virdon had found it wiser to keep them hobbled for the time being. „The fetters can be loosened with one tug anyway.“

Burke nodded absently, but Galen didn’t answer immediately. When he finally turned his head to look at Virdon, Burke saw his friend freeze.

„If she’s dead, Alan...“ Galen’s voice was almost inaudible, humming with fury. „If she’s dead, I swear you’ll pay for it.“

„Whoa there.“ Burke stepped between Virdon and the ape, although the look on Galen’s face made his skin tingle. „Calm down, Galen, okay? We’ll find Zana, and she’ll be okay. There’s no need for talking shit.“

Galen turned his gaze to him then, and Burke unconsciously gripped his knife harder. The look in the ape’s eyes was icy. „He’s responsible for what happened here... for what happened to her. I _do_ hold him responsible. If we don’t find her...“ He turned away and jerked at Tala’s rope.

„Don’t come between us then, Peet. I’m warning you only once.“


	7. Chapter 7

The wind had picked up when they stepped outside, throwing a cold gust into Virdon’s face. The sky was a churning mass of black clouds racing across the sky, hiding and revealing the sun in rapid succession.

The plaza reflected the pale, flickering light, but despite the unreal, nightmarish scenery, Virdon was acutely aware that this was _real,_ one of them was gone, and his mind shied away from asking what was happening to Zana now, if she was even still alive-

He shook his head, trying to chase away those thoughts, and reached for Apache’s rope. They would find her in time. They had to, not because of Galen’s threats, but because anything else was unacceptable.

Burke came jogging back from his quick scout, still gripping the empty, useless gun that Galen had dropped. Perhaps he hoped to get his hands on some ammunition later.

„Found something, let’s go,“ Burke gasped and stepped between the horses. „Get on Apache, Al, and take Tala’s rope - once we have Zana, we gotta run real quick!“ He handed the gun to Virdon and helped him onto the horse’s back, then bent down to remove the fetters.

Virdon checked the saddlebags behind him and tried not to feel like the useless cripple that he was. Pete was right about having to flee on horseback, and Virdon knew that despite his bad leg, he was the best rider in their group, and would probably be the only one capable of keeping their horses in check, while Pete and Galen...

„What did you find?“ he ground out while they hurried down the wide walkway. He saw Pete purse his lips and hesitate.

„Trail of blood,“ Burke muttered after a moment. „Hey, we’re all bleeding, okay?“ he added quickly. „Doesn’t have to mean anything, an’ it’s at least something we can follow!“ He pointed.

It was a broad, if thin, smear of blood, marring the otherwise pristine whiteness of the road, and Virdon felt the bile rise in his throat. These things had dragged her over the stones, and the smear was uniform, there were no interruptions, which meant Zana hadn’t struggled, hadn’t moved...

She was unconscious, he told himself, not dead. Not dead...

Nobody spoke. It didn’t take any special scouting skills to follow the trail, and Virdon kept his gaze more on the edges of the visible area they were traversing than on the ground, scanning the facades, the intersections, the shadows under the... floating streets, all the nooks and niches. He fully expected another attack; maybe the trail was a trap, and Zana was bait, and they were unarmed, save for Galen’s rod, and Pete’s grenades, and their knives.

Burke stopped abruptly. „There.“ He pointed to another building, a massive block that reached into the sky with, Virdon estimated, several hundred floors, the top levels dissolving in the black clouds overhead. The trail of blood led to another hole at ground level, but this one hadn’t been forced open; it looked like the gate to a subterranean parking garage. Yet another underground nest.

„Seems the things that attacked you were from another ‘hood,“ Burke mused. „Took her back to their own lair.“ He rubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking.

„Does that mean, that... that every building has a, a colony?“ Galen asked. His face mirrored Virdon’s thoughts: Would they have to fight their way out of this nightmare against waves and waves of these creatures, each building spewing forth a new force?

That would be impossible. They’d never make it out alive. The rod was dangling from Galen’s arm as if it was suddenly too heavy for him. Galen wasn’t used to fighting; he hadn’t held anything more deadly than a pen for most of his life. Virdon silently cursed his leg. Galen shouldn’t be the one to go in there with Burke, _he_ should, he knew how to do this...

Burke drew a deep breath. „I dunno,“ he admitted. „Let’s hope not. C’mon, we can’t lose more time. You an’ I, Galen - we’ll go in, grab her, get out, an’ get away as quickly as possible. Al.“ He turned and stepped to Apache’s shoulder. „Here.“ He dug into the pouch that was tied to his belt and handed him three grenades. „Use ‘em wisely.“ He hesitated, as if he was searching for words, then just patted Virdon’s leg before he turned away and busied himself with Tala’s saddlebags.

When he returned to Galen’s side, he was carrying their torches. „I was thinking that these things aren’t used to bright light, what with those huge eyes. So we’ll blind them, an’ then we’ll kill them.“ He lit the torches while speaking, then strode towards the dark hole where Zana’s bloody trail had vanished. „Once we have Zana, I’ll throw some more of my babies into that hole, keep ‘em busy - I think the blast is fucking with their internal navigation or something, at least they were pretty aimless after I bombed them in the other building.“

Galen caught up to him after a moment of stunned surprise. „That’s... that’s your plan?“

Burke shot him a sideways glance. „Yeah. You got a better one?“

The ape didn’t answer, just gripped his rod harder and followed him. As far as desperate plans went, it wasn’t a bad one; Virdon would’ve used the same strategy.

... if he had been fit to fight. Instead, he was damned to linger outside, like a preschooler waiting for his parents to pick him up.

He hoped and prayed that they’d all come back out. He didn’t dare to imagine them coming back without Zana.

Or none of them coming back out.

If they didn’t come back, he’d go after them. Go in with his three grenades and either get them out, or die in there, torn to pieces by mankind’s last sins.

His hip pinged, and Virdon absently pocketed the grenade and rubbed his hand over the scar. Realistically, there was no chance he’d heroically bust out his team, armed with nothing but three grenades and his righteousness. He was... he was a cripple.

Time to face the ugly truth. Bit late, sure.

His leg might heal. Some time in the future, if they survived this day. Or it might not. But even if it healed, it would probably never be back to a hundred percent. He’d probably retain a limp. And chronic pain. He was, and would be for a long time, a liability to the team, slowing them down, unable to pull his weight in a fight.

He swallowed heavily, humiliation hot in his chest. That little tantrum he had thrown earlier - that was what had brought them all here. His insistence that he could wander off alone, crippled and unarmed, and poke around in ruins that every wild creature of the zone was avoiding by a wide margin.

_I’m such a damn idiot._

He stowed away the other two grenades and clumsily slid down from Apache’s back. Both horses were in bad shape, bleeding and trembling, and on the verge of bolting, and their earlier fight had slipped the saddlebags out of place. Maybe he couldn’t join the others in the fight, but he could at least get their horses back in shape.

He took off Apache’s load and surveyed the horse’s injuries. Most of them seemed to be only superficial - cuts from sharp claws, and bite marks, and most of the back had been shielded by the saddlebags. He let his hands slide across the gelding’s belly and breathed a relieved sigh when he didn’t find any bite marks there.

He put the saddlebags back on the horse - this time, balanced out - and repeated his inspection with Tala. Galen’s stitches had held; he was becoming quite a decent surgeon. The rest of her injuries matched those of Apache: none too deep or dangerous, but the sum of them could weaken them both. Already they were in dire need of water. And there was also the risk of infection.

Virdon raked a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh and glanced towards the entrance. Still no sign of them.

They might not come back. His insistence on digging for some undefined piece of miracle technology had endangered not only Zana’s life, but also Pete’s, and Galen’s... maybe not just endangered, but cost their lives.

He had to give his hands something to do. Virdon quickly scanned his surroundings - nothing moved, nothing made a sound, only the wind was howling around the corners; in the distance, the metal spires of the massive domes were moaning in a deep bass, like a choir of damned souls. He dug into Galen’s saddlebag until he found the chamomile tincture and the jar with powdered yarrow, and began to clean the horses’ wounds.

It wasn’t the right kind of work; it was too mechanical, giving his mind the freedom to roam, and to lead him inevitably back to that fight an hour or so ago. All of Pete’s and Galen’s arguments had been sound, and he had known it at the time, he just hadn’t... he hadn’t been able to ignore the possibility, the promise...

What if it was an empty promise? He rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and carefully dabbed more chamomile on Tala’s whithers.

Pete might have been right. Maybe there was nothing to find in these old cities but death. Death for himself was something he had slowly stopped dreading; it would at least be an end to the pain, and though he’d never actively seek it out, he wasn’t overly concerned about avoiding it anymore. But the others... He owed it to the apes, who had been protecting them both, to not endanger their lives for his selfish desire.

So did that mean he had to give up on Chris... on Sally? There had to be another solution, a way out-

A muffled boom shook him out of his dejected reverie. The horses jerked their heads, and began to shift nervously, ready to bolt. Virdon hastily stuffed the jar and bottle back into the canvas bag and tried to calm down Apache so that he could climb onto his back again. When Pete and the apes came back, he had to be ready. „Whoa, whoa, good boy.“ He finally managed to maneuver the horse parallel to a railing - probably a railing - that allowed him to remount. He turned him back towards the entrance, Tala’s rope in one hand, a grenade in the other.

Dust billowed out of the entrance, and then a figure stumbled out of the cloud, and Virdon’s heart constricted painfully for a moment - _only one? -_ Galen, moving strangely clumsy. He was carrying something... someone...

Zana.

Virdon didn’t dare to feel relieved - if Galen was carrying her, she had to be unconscious, and she had been bleeding, and maybe... but he didn’t allow himself to finish that thought.

And then Burke was stumbling out into the open, too, turning back a last time to hurl another grenade - and a string of curses, probably - and Virdon threw Tala’s ropes to Galen and urged Apache forward to grab his friend.

Behind Burke, the shuddering building was spewing forth a mass of white creatures, all gaping maws full of hunger and teeth, an army sprung from hell itself.

* * *

The thing with torches was that they didn’t give you a directed beam of light, but shone in all directions, including your eyes. Even if you didn’t burn your own eyebrows, you were still blinding yourself, instead of the little pests hiding in the shadows.

Burke held his torch higher and tried to get the scope of the place, but outside their circle of light lay only a fathomless darkness - no walls, no ceiling. For the sake of this mission - and his sanity - he assumed this place had been something like a parking garage. At least that’s what the entrance had looked like. Of course, it could also just be a wrong association his brain made, looking for a familiar pattern to identify this place.

Galen was beside him, torch in one hand, rod in the other, tense and silent. Burke could smell the blood that was coating his fur, which meant that the critters could smell it, too, if the torchlight wasn’t enough to alert them to their presence. He hoped that they wouldn’t react by dragging Zana deeper into their lair while sending a platoon their way to delay them, or kill them off. Swarm intelligence wasn’t sufficient to think up strategies like that, right?

He banished those thoughts and lowered the torch again to follow Zana’s trail towards the back of the deck. There were footprints in the blood, vaguely human, but much smaller.

_She shouldn’t have been losing so much blood at that point anymore._

He didn’t mention that to Galen, just quickened his steps.

The first attack came from above, aimed for his face.

He batted the thing away with his torch before he even registered something was coming his way. The torch left a flaming trail in the darkness, and the afterglow blinded his vision with a neon-green smear over his retinas. He was effectively blind, the torch was just a weapon now, like the knife in his right hand, fire and steel.

Burke stabbed into the black air and felt the blade penetrate a too-thin skull. He hadn’t even heard that one move, it was just instinct, sensing the thing’s presence.

Suddenly he and Galen were moving inside a curtain of hissing and rattling sounds, coming at them from all directions at once, as menacing as it was disorienting. Galen’s rod was singing in the darkness, and their torches cut crackling arcs of gold through it, spitting sparks where they collided with the attacking creatures.

And then Galen was screaming and screaming, and in the torchlight, Burke saw that the things were hanging on his back like a clump of huge, white ants, scrabbling for his neck. He whirled around and plunged his knife into the writhing cluster, sliced it through the bodies, warm fluid gushing over his hands, and told himself _it’s blood, just fucking blood,_ ‘cause everything else would’ve been just too damn disgusting, and then he burned the last critter off before it could gnaw through Galen’s jugular.

Galen gagged, whether from disgust or because the things had held him in a chokehold, Burke couldn’t tell. He cut his torch through the black air in a wide half-circle, batting on its path against two or three bodies hidden in the darkness, and followed the motion with his whole body until he felt Galen’s drenched robe against his back.

They were taking care now to keep guarding each other this way, standing back to back, stabbing and slashing with their torches, and their weapons, inching their way across the deck. Burke was dimly aware that at their current speed, their chances of finding Zana before these things had dragged her to the deepest level of their lair were dwindling dramatically, but there was nothing he could do. There were simply too many of them, surrounding them, attacking relentlessly, totally unfazed by the fate of their fellow creeps.

Finally, Galen had to light a new torch on the old one, and out of whatever intuition threw the glowing stump towards the back of the hall. It painted a red arc into the black void, and then it fell...

... fell deeper than the ground they were standing on. If Galen hadn't thrown the stump, they'd both have toppled from that invisible edge.

Something ignited with a hiss, and a golden-red glow bloomed in the darkness below.

Against the backlight, Burke thought he had glimpsed something. Small shapes were writhing in the flames, burning to crispy mutant lizards, he hoped - but among them on that platform was another shape, bigger than the mutants, lying motionless on the ground. She was covered in something that looked like spun sugar.

The same spun sugar that had caught fire as easily as tinder, and whose heat Burke could feel breathing against his face now. The creatures on the ground level doubled their efforts, attacking faster now, more viciously than before. He jerked his head back; teeth snapped shut not even an inch away from his face.

„D’you see her down there?“ He had to make sure Galen would know what he’d be talking about in a second.

The ape just growled. Burke took it as a yes. „Need to reach her before the fire does! Ignore those critters, _run!“_

The mutants were leaping out of the flickering darkness now, and writhing under his feet, making him stumble and curse, but he just kicked and batted them away, ignoring the bites and slashes, and there was Zana-

Zana.

„You carry her, I’ll cover you!“ He’d never be able to jump up the six feet from down there, with Zana in his arms, but Galen was an ape - inhumanly strong, and, right now, not completely sane.

Galen hesitated for a tiny moment, then stuck the rod under his belt, and jumped down to scoop her into his arms. Zana didn’t move, not even moan; her head was lolling back in Galen’s arms when he leaped up again. She looked-

_Not now. Later._

Burke hastily stuck the hilt of his knife between his teeth, activated one of his last grenades, hurled it beyond the fire, and spun around to race after Galen. Under normal circumstances, an ape could easily outrace a human, but not on two feet, let alone while carrying his mate. Burke was at Galen’s side in a moment, plunging his knife into yet another critter that was scrabbling up the ape’s back.

They reached the exit, and Burke stopped to throw another two grenades into the darkness. They were his last ones. He just hoped they would do enough damage in there.

A deep boom, and then a cloud of dust billowed out, so he had hopefully hit something crumbleable. „I hope the sky just fell on your ugly heads, you fucking abominations!“

When he turned around, Galen had maneuvered himself onto Tala’s back, holding a still unconscious - had to be unconscious, had to be... holding Zana in his arms. Al was waving at him to get the fuck out of here.

_Brilliant idea, Al, just a bit late..._

Burke sprinted down the drive and let Virdon drag him up on Apache’s back. The horses fell into a gallop before he was even sitting right, and he grabbed Virdon’s waist harder than intended. He doubted they could stop the horses now to scoop him up again, if he fell off.

Riding a horse was exactly as uncomfortable as he remembered it. He turned his head to see if anything was coming after them, and cursed. „Gimme one of your grenades, Al!“ Pale shapes, their contours blurring into the white of the pavement, were leaping after them. Still too many of the damn fuckers left.

„In my belt pouch,“ Virdon shouted without turning his head. Burke fumbled around for a bit, then chucked the grenade towards their pursuers. In the light of day, dark as it was, they really looked as if one of Hasslein’s grandkids had cross-bred humans with lizards, and then thrown in some ant DNA because the result still wasn’t fucked-up enough for their taste.

 _Why_ they would breed these things in the first place was anyone’s guess. Maybe someone had just accidentally spilled some test tubes... At least they weren’t grenade-proof. And they were still bleeding red, which was something he shouldn’t feel so grateful about, but did.

But if any of these buildings housed another colony, their little pony express was doomed. Burke turned away from the sight and peered over Virdon’s shoulder; there wasn’t anything he could do about the lizard-men coming after them now, anyway.

Before them, Tala was visibly limping, but sheer terror was spurring the mare into a hard gallop, and Apache was stretching himself, catching up with her, and the creatures finally fell back. Still, Virdon was urging on his horse, and Galen was doing the same; neither of them dared to stop until they were well into the pines and bramble thickets surrounding the city. They were still on cursed ground, and by now, Burke couldn’t help but agree that it was cursed, but at least they were no longer in reach of that mutated hive that infested this shell of a city.

_They didn’t look human, but they sure as hell were human creations. More fuel for Galen’s already low opinion of us._

Right now, though, Galen had more urgent concerns. The horses had slowed down on their own, too exhausted to keep up their mad speed, and had finally stopped at one of the little creeks crossing these woods. The ape slid down from Tala’s back, Zana still in his arms, and gently laid her down into the moss at the water’s edge.

Burke slipped clumsily from Apache’s back, too, glad to touch the ground with his own two feet again, and made a step towards them, but stopped at Galen’s glare.

And Zana still wasn’t moving.


	8. Chapter 8

Virdon squinted at the sky - by the looks of it, some serious weather was gearing up. They’d have to seek shelter and wait out the storm, even if their horses weren’t breaking down. He turned the horse around, and tried to estimate the distance to the city. The skyline was still visible.

Too close.

Burke followed his gaze. „You think they’ll come after us?“

Virdon thought about that for a moment, glad to have something to think about beside Zana’s condition. „I doubt it. These creatures seemed to be organized like... ants, or termites. They’ll likely have their own... farms and cattle underground, and were just, just not averse to some fresh meat wandering into their territory.“

Burke shifted on his feet. „But don’t ants swarm out and, y’know, hunt in the neighbourhood? Like those leafcutter ants? What?“ he said indignantly, when Virdon frowned. „I watched the nature channel, back home.“

„Let’s just hope the similarity ends there,“ Virdon muttered. They had two grenades left. And their knives. If these things did follow them, the odds weren’t good.

Virdon turned his attention to Zana to stop thinking about bloodthirsty mutants wiggling their way towards them. It was... not really a relief. „We’ve got no other choice but to stop - the horses can’t go on, and we need to have a look at Zana.“ She hadn’t moved since Galen had come running out of the gate with her in his arms. Virdon hadn’t dared to ask him if she was still breathing.

Right now, Galen was brushing away some strange, white substance covering her chest and face, and rubbing water from the creek over her face, but it didn’t seem to help. Blood was drenching her robe, but then, blood was drenching all their clothes, not all of it their own. Virdon hoped that it was mutant blood that soaked the fabric; it made the robe cling to her body, exposing her rounded belly for the first time. Virdon averted his eyes; the sight made him self-conscious, as if he wasn’t supposed to look at the evidence of her pregnancy.

His gaze fell on a little hollow surrounded by a grove of pine trees, sheltered by big blocks of rock, and after a moment’s hesitation, he pointed it out to the others.

The wind wasn’t as fierce inside the grove, but the rain would still drench them once the storm broke loose. They needed to build a shelter quickly, for Zana’s sake if not their own. Virdon slid down from Apache’s back, hobbled the horses, and sighed a breath of relief when he found the hatchet in one of the saddlebags. He hadn’t been sure if Zana had thought of adding it when she had scrambled to pack their things during their escape, stumbling around in the shuddering wagon while bullets were whipping past her head. But Zana could keep her wits together in a battle. For a city girl who had never been in more distressing situations than budget meetings, she was...

Zana was...

Galen lowered Zana to the ground; he had encased himself in a stony silence that made Virdon hesitate a moment, before he took a step towards him. „A storm is coming,“ he said, „Pete and I will build a shelter. It won’t take long.“

Galen didn’t acknowledge him; his attention was focused on his fiancée. Virdon glanced once again at her shredded and blood-soaked robe, and quickly looked away. She looked as if these things had tried to burrow through her belly. Galen hadn’t succeeded at removing all of the spiderweb-like covering, and the white substance made the bloodstains stand out even more.

They worked mostly in silence, carrying a pole back to wedge it between the trees, then Burke began to cut down branches as thick as his wrist for the ribs of their hut, while Virdon cut pine boughs for the thatching. It was easy not to talk; the gale was roaring in the tree crowns above them, adding ominous creaking and crunching sounds to its repertoire.

„You really think it was such a good idea to stop here?“ Burke finally asked. He had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the storm. „I’m waiting for one of these damn trees to fall on my head any moment.“

„You’d rather have faced that storm out there?“ Virdon asked. „Without any shelter against the wind and rain, with already spooked horses and an injured ape?“

„No, I’d rather have faced it with two exhausted horses and an _uninjured_ ape, an’ the rest of us don’t look so good, either,“ Burke snapped.

Virdon turned away and put some trees between himself and Burke, and cut down more pine boughs.

It took them roughly an hour to finish the hut, and another hour went by with building a rough screen for the horses. Virdon lingered there for a bit, giving them water and the last of their oats, and checking on their wounds, before he dragged his feet over to their own shelter. The hut wasn’t high enough to stand upright. He crouched down at the entrance, not really eager to crawl under the screen.

„How is she?“ he finally dared to ask.

For a long moment, only silence greeted him. Then Burke appeared in the entrance, grabbed his arm, and half-dragged, half-pushed him back to the horses’ shelter. Tala and Apache were pressed against each other, heads hooked over each other’s croup, seeking reassurance from each other’s presence.

Burke’s face was anything but reassuring. „She’s in bad shape, Al. She’s lost a lot of blood, and she’s got some bad concussions on her head. These things weren’t strong enough to carry her, so they just dragged her along, and in that other hole, they just pushed her down on some platform... she must’ve fallen about six or seven feet, an’ at the time, she’d already been unconscious, so she couldn’t cushion her fall. It’s a miracle she didn’t break her neck then...“ He paused, and Virdon saw him swallow in the dim light.

„But it’s possible that she broke her skull,“ Burke finally continued. „Galen can’t tell in this light. But she’s still not woken up. An’ it’s been a pretty long time now, with us building two shelters, an’ all.“

He turned his head towards the black entrance of the shelter. Virdon followed his gaze. Nothing moved over there.

Both men stared at it for long minutes.

„This is my fault,“ Virdon murmured.

Burke didn’t answer.

„Yeah,“ he said finally. „It is.“

They listened to the storm howling in the trees.

Burke abruptly turned his head. „I think it’d be better if you didn’t show your face over there until we know what... what’s what with Zana. I’ll... see if I can do anything to help Galen.“ He turned to go, hesitated, then turned back.

„Just in case... an’ just in case I’m not fast enough to warn you...“ He nodded at the hatchet leaning against the tree.

„Keep that thing in reach.“

* * *

The wind was howling outside, but not even a breeze moved Zana’s fur, so thick was the layer of boughs the humans had piled on. But it also shut out the last bit of light that filtered through the clouds and the trees to the ground, and that meant that the contours of her body were barely visible, and Galen couldn’t see if she was still breathing.

He fought against the feeling that he had laid her to rest in a grave, piling grass and leaves upon her body to let it go back to the Mothers.

Galen tried to let his fingers do the looking, brushing away the last strands of the strange, brittle substance that was still clinging her body, to feel for a heartbeat, a movement of her ribcage, her flanks. But all he could feel was how cool she was, how still, and how the blood still coated her fur, and his hands.

While the humans had built the shelters, he had cleaned Zana’s wounds, stitched up the deeper ones, bandaged them... focused on the things he _could_ do for now. He hadn’t had the time yet to get the blood out of her fur, or to do anything about the blood-soaked robes... neither of which was relevant for her recovery. He should tell the humans to collect more water, Galen thought absently, and to heat it up, so that he could properly clean her up later, get the blood out of her hair.

So much blood.

He knew he was bleeding, too, and that superficial cuts could bleed profusely without being life-threatening. In his mind, a part of him was rattling down medical facts, she was unconscious because of a blunt trauma to her head, several, in fact, and not from the blood loss, but the bigger part of him couldn’t listen to those facts, because he was too horrified to understand them. They were like water running in the distance.

No, that was the rain. It was pounding on the roof of this low, dark tunnel, a steady, soothing whisper of the outside world, and for a moment, Galen allowed it to draw him into a thoughtless awareness of it, focusing on the sound instead of his own stumbling heart.

He drew a sharp breath. „Peet.“

„’m here.“ The human’s voice was low, as if he was trying not to wake Zana, and Galen smiled faintly at that irrational reaction.

„I need more light,“ he said. „I can’t see a thing in here. Can you somehow make an opening without letting the rain soak her?“

„Can do.“ He heard Peet crawl out, and a moment later, the boughs were lifted above him and supported with branches so that they were still shielding them against the weather. It wasn’t much more light than before, but it was enough to see that Zana was still breathing.

She was still alive.

But she wasn’t waking up.

„Do you think you can make a fire?“ He hadn’t thought of examining the bumps of her skull, he had been too horrified to think about that.

 _I’m such a fine doctor._ But if Zana had broken her skull, there was nothing he could do for her, here in the wilderness. Maybe he just hadn’t dared to find out. But there was no use putting it off any longer. He dug his fingers into her skull, probing the bones underneath for movement, for crepitation.

_Mothers, you know Zana - this woman has the thickest skull of all apes I’ve ever met, and I’ve met many... once she’s determined to do something, nothing and nobody can persuade her to let it go... So please, please, let it be thick enough to be whole now..._

„No, but Al can, you know he’s our Davy Crockett out here.“ Dry leaves rustled as Peet crawled out of the shelter.

Galen didn’t really listen - nothing had moved under his fingers, but maybe he had been too squeamish the first time. He had to be sure. He started again, digging his fingers deeper into the lumps.

Zana moaned and cracked her eyes open a tiny bit. One of her hands came up and fell on his like a wet bag, limp and too weak to grab his probing fingers and drag them away from the sore spot he was abusing.

Galen clenched his jaw and carefully didn’t blink, but his eyes were blurring, and he had to clear them, he had to see what he was doing, after all. The drops vanished into her robe, mingling with the blood that had drenched the fabric. „Zana,“ he said roughly. „Zana, can you hear me?“

Her voice was thin, and high, and not really forming any words, but her eyes moved slowly until they focused on him. Galen smiled, although he didn’t feel like smiling at all. „We found you, Zana, we’re far outside the city, and you’re safe now. Do you understand? All is... all will be well. I promise, all will be well.“ He turned his hand up so that he could grab hers that was still limp on his, and squeezed it gently.

She smiled weakly at him, and squeezed him back, and then, as her eyelids were slowly closing, her hand in his went limp again. Galen watched her for a moment, until he was sure she was still breathing; then he settled down beside her, still holding her hand, and watched the faint movements of her ribs.

* * *

When he emerged from the shelter, the rain had stopped; the cloud cover had gaps in it that were big enough to see the sun that was already hanging low in the western sky. The humans had cleaned themselves up in the meantime; they had also kept the fire burning, and Peet handed him a mug with tea, steaming hot and so strong that it glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth for a moment, the way he liked it.

Maybe he’d keep Peet. The human was catching on to how to make tea the right way.

Alan, on the other hand...

Their other human was leaning against the trunk of a pine on the far end of the little clearing, his bad leg stretched out before him; he was staring into his own mug. Galen regarded him for a moment, sipping his tea, before he wandered over to him.

It took another moment before Alan drew a deep breath and looked up to him.

„She’s alive,“ Galen informed him, and the human closed his eyes for a moment. Zana loved their color. Maybe he’d keep him for her sake. „Her skull isn’t broken, as far as I could determine,“ Galen continued, „but she sustained multiple flesh wounds...“ He broke off and took another draw from his mug.

When he was sure that he had his voice under control, he continued. „Especially in the abdomen. It looked as if these creatures were... were trying to cut through and get to the baby.“

Behind him, Peet cursed. Alan put his hand over his eyes for a moment, rubbing them with thumb and forefinger. Then he met Galen’s eyes again. „This was my fault.“ His voice was rough, but steady. He looked down to where the tea was cooling in his mug, chewing on the inside of his lip for a moment. „I should’ve known y’all would follow me, even though I said I’d go alone.“

Galen grabbed his mug harder and forced himself to breathe evenly. To hear the human out.

Alan drew a long, careful breath. „I’m desperate to go home, Galen. To see my family again. Put yourself in my shoes and ask yourself if you wouldn’t do the same if you’d lost Zana the way I lost Sally. But I don’t want to pay my way home with your blood. Or Zana’s. Or Pete’s. I swear...“ and now he looked up again, eyes gray and stormy like the sky above them, „as long as we’re traveling with you, I won’t look for a way back into my time anymore.“

For a moment, Galen wanted to hurl his mug against one of the trees, see it explode against the bark. Then he remembered how Alan had done the same after Peet had been captured.

_I’m not going to turn into a human._

„I’m relieved to hear that,“ he said evenly. „Let’s hope it will also reassure Zana, once she’s strong enough to hear it from you. But it won’t undo the damage she already suffered.“

Alan had the decency to bow his head then. „I know.“

„And I want something from you to show me that you’re serious,“ Galen continued.

The human lifted his head again, alert now. Wary. „What do you mean?“

„The disc you’re wearing around your neck,“ Galen said. „I want you to give it to me. You have my word that you’ll get it back the day we do part ways. But right now, I need more than just your word. I need _proof.“_

Alan came slowly to his feet, dragging himself up against the trunk with one hand. He had gone pale, Galen noticed. He also was taller than him, taller by a head.

Then, stiffly, and without another word, the human bowed his head, slipped the pendant over it, and handed it to him. Galen took it, trying not to feel guilty. „I’ll take care of it like I take care of my Book,“ he reassured Alan, but the human just turned around and limped away, to the horses.

Peet said nothing when Galen returned to the fire and slipped the pendant over his own head, only stared at him for a long moment. Galen chose to ignore him. The disc was warm from Alan’s body; it felt strange to wear it, as if Alan’s hand was resting over his heart.

„I need you and Alan to build something with which to transport Zana,“ he finally addressed him. „She needs medical treatment, and that means we need to reach the next town as quickly as possible.“

„What about Urko?“ Peet asked.

Galen shrugged and refilled his mug. „That is a problem I leave to your capable hands, Peet. You take care of Urko - I know you’ve wanted that for a long time now.

„And I’ll take care that Zana survives.“


	9. Chapter 9

„Looks good, Tonto.“ Burke ignored the dirty look from the colonel, and appreciatively shook the pole hovering at Tala’s side. It had taken Al about an hour to build an A-frame drag sled for the horse, and now Zana was lying on the platform like a huge swaddled ape baby. They had used half of their blankets for her; the other half was protecting Tala’s back from getting rubbed sore by the poles. Apache now had to carry all their stuff, which meant that Al had to walk on foot again; he had made himself a new crutch for the occasion, while he was deforesting the area.

Crutch or not, they’d be travelling at snail’s speed, but then the sled was slowing Tala down, too. Zana would’ve needed a helicopter ride to the next hospital, but under the circumstances, it was the best they could do for her. Burke ambled to Tala’s croupe and peered down at the ape. „How you’re doin’? Are you comfortable?“

„I’m fine,“ Zana whispered. „Light hurts.“

Girl had a concussion; she’d bumped her head several times. Burke bent down and pulled the edge of the blanket down until it covered her eyes. „There. We’ll take you to a doctor now. If you need anything, jus’ holler.“

Galen had the map, so he took point; it also afforded him the luxury of not having to look at any of them. Al followed on his crutch, and Burke with Apache was last. It didn’t take long for that order to shift, though, as Al fell back, his limp now more pronounced.

Galen showed no indication of slowing down. Burke stopped, scratched his head, and surveyed Apache’s load. „Wait a sec, Al, I’ll take off a bit of our stuff, and you get on his back.“

Virdon leaned on his crutch and wiped his sleeve over his face. „You can’t get as much weight off him as I’ll put on,“ he gasped. „And he’s already packed to the max.“

Burke stared at him for a moment, at Galen, steadily marching on, then pushed the rope into Virdon’s hand. „Don’t run off together.“

Galen just flicked him a glance when he jogged up to him, so he grabbed Tala’s halter and forced her to stop. „Al can’t go on, he’s falling behind.“

„What do you suggest?“ Galen asked. „Should we set up camp?“

Burke bit down on his first response. „If you take a part of Apache’s load, and I take another one, and we put a bit on the platform with Zana-“

„No.“

Burke forced a smile on his face. „Okay, fine, then you ‘n I just take on a bit more, but Al needs to be on Apache’s back.“

Galen said nothing, but also didn’t move.

„See, Galen,“ Burke said after a moment, „I really get that you’re majorly pissed off at Al. Way I see it, you got two choices here: reshuffle the load so he can ride, or...“

„Or?“ Galen leaned against the pole sticking up at Tala’s shoulder and pierced Burke with a glare.

„Or you give back the disc an’ we say our goodbyes here,“ Burke said calmly. „Of course, there’s a fifty percent chance that it’ll be you who’ll meet Urko at the border.“ He smiled. „And I have all our remaining grenades.“

Galen just sighed and shook his head, then pushed away from the pole and walked back to Apache. „Just to be clear, I’m not keeping you for your grenades,“ he muttered and grabbed one of the bags.

„It’s because of my good looks, admit it.“ Burke grabbed another one. It was _heavy._ „Goddamn, Galen, what did you hide in there? Boulders?“

Galen just grabbed the bag and dumped his own into Burke’s arms. It was lighter, but not much. „I’m keeping you because Zana would be pissed at _me_ if I sent you away. That is the only reason.“ He abruptly turned around and strode back to Tala, grabbed her rope and tugged her on, not waiting for the humans.

„Saddle up, Al.“ Burke patted Apache’s withers. „The master is in a terrible mood today.“

„He’s got reason to be,“ Virdon murmured while he climbed on the gelding’s back.

Burke shrugged internally, as the heavy load on his back didn’t allow his shoulders any movement anymore, and took up Apache’s rope. „Yeah, you fucked up big time. So did I, when I let myself get captured. There’ll come the day when the big ape there will fuck up, too, so there’s no reason to bend over and take it from now until judgment day, Al. I know your kind is big on repentance and stuff, but there’s something like too much of a good thing, ya know?“

„My kind?“ Virdon sounded slightly miffed.

Good. Better than sounding so damn dejected and... and _meek_ all the time. Contrary to _some_ people, Burke didn’t believe that the meek would inherit the Earth. The evidence all around him backed him up on that assessment.

„Ye faithful, Al.“

Virdon coughed, and Burke grinned. _I’ll get you back on track, old man._

„So, what was that about the grenades?“

„Ah, I just pointed out to him that in a conversation with Urko, I’d have stronger arguments than him.“

Virdon made a noncommittal sound behind him. „And how many arguments do we have left?“

„Two.“

„You better organize your arguments real quick, Pete - seems we’ll have that conversation soon.“

Burke tripped over a stone and steadied himself against the horse’s shoulder. Up on Apache’s back, Virdon had a wider view than him. „You can see him?“

„Him and three of his goons.“

Burke’s heart was pounding in his chest. _I’ll get you good, you bastard. You have no idea what I'm bringing to the table this time._ Aloud, he just said, „Better get down before he shoots you off the horse. You know how these people are about humans ‘n horses.“

„He won’t shoot me from a distance.“ Virdon’s voice was flat. „He wants to be up close for the kill. To see the light go out in my eyes.“

Burke could see them now, a heap of horses and riders waiting for them on the horizon, dark shapes before the setting sun. _I’ll make him see the light, if that’s what he’s so interested in._

„Since we’re ignoring ape rules now, take Betsy, too,“ he said absently.

„We don’t have any ammunition left.“

„‘s long as you don’t tell anyone, we’ll be fine.“

Before him, Galen had slowed down, allowing him to catch up until they were side by side. „Give me the rope,“ the ape murmured. „I assume you need your hands free for our... negotiations.“ He regarded Burke with an ironic glint in his eyes. „So, what is your strategy?“

_Kill them all and move on._

He handed Galen the rope and nestled his belt pouch open without taking his eyes off the guards. „Let me do the talking. And then run like hell.“

* * *

Nobody spoke a word while their little caravan approached. Urko had positioned himself directly before the rising sun, forcing Virdon to shield his eyes from the glare. In a shootout, Urko would hold a deadly advantage. Of course, Urko being armed, while Virdon didn’t have any bullets in the magazine of his gun, was an even deadlier advantage. Everything depended on Burke and his grenades.

Maybe their trip into the city had at least been good for _something._

They came to a halt, Burke falling to a parade rest that conveniently shielded the grenade he was holding from Urko’s view.

„Hello, Pete,“ Urko said friendly. „Been missing you.“

„I see you found a new horse,“ Burke said, equally friendly. „Is it as good as the old one?“

„Well, I’m never averse to trying new things,“ Urko said, showing his teeth. „How about you? Ready to try out new things with me and Vanda?“

Virdon could see Burke’s shoulders tense, but his voice stayed calm. „’m afraid I won’t be able to make time for you, I’m all booked out.“

„Ah, yes.“ Urko made a show of discovering the drag sled with Zana on it. „Well, I’m willing to wait here until you’ve buried her. And then we’ll take the rest of you home.“ He nodded in Zana’s direction. „What happened? Found something that took a bite out of her?“

„Found some interesting things in there, yeah,“ Burke said casually. „Like these.“ He lobbed the grenade over the guards’ heads, and Virdon grabbed Apache’s reins harder in preparation of the horse’s reaction.

The guards hadn’t the sense to do that, but then again, they weren’t familiar with grenades. To them, it had probably looked as if Burke had thrown a stone, and not even _at_ them, but the explosion behind them set their horses rearing and bolting. Two of the guards were thrown off, and Urko and the other guard had to fight hard to stay on their horses.

When the gorilla had finally brought his jittery horse under control, Burke was holding their last grenade in the air. „This grenade is activated,“ he told Urko. „The moment you shoot me and my fingers slide off, it’ll explode. And as you just saw, the blast radius will take out you an’ your goons, too.“

Urko was watching Burke like a snake. „It’ll kill you, too. You and all your friends.“

„Guess it will.“ Virdon thought he could hear Pete smile. „But if we go with you, we’re dead anyway. Seems to me you’ve got more to lose here. I heard you’ve got family back in town.“

The guards shifted. Apparently, they had families, too.

Urko remained unmoved. „My wife knows that the day will come when I won’t return. That is the life we both chose.“

„Huh,“ Burke said thoughtfully. „Think today should be the day?“

The sun was climbing higher in the sky, hanging directly behind the gorilla’s head now, and its glare had intensified so much that his contours were blurring as Virdon squinted at him. He heard the horse make a step. Urko’s hulking shadow was moving towards them.

„Why not?“ he heard Urko’s voice from the white inferno. „It’d erase your existence, that blight on this world, wipe out the threat to apekind. I’d say it’s worth it.“ He leaned down to Burke, face to face. The other guard who still had his horse came to his side.

„We’ll be together in the white wastes till the end of time, Pete,“ Urko growled. „So _do it._ Blow us up.“

_He called your bluff, Pete. We’re dead._

And then Urko dropped from his horse.

He fell into the dry grass without a sound, without trying to catch his fall. Virdon stared at his prone figure for a moment before it dawned on him that the guard who had sidled up to him had knocked out his leader. Apparently, not everyone was as eager to die today as Urko.

„You done some half-assed job there, buddy,“ Burke muttered. „As soon as he wakes up, he’ll have your head.“

„I doubt it,“ the guard said. „The prefect will be too pissed off for what he did to her humans to allow that. You sent that medicine to my friend, boy?“

Virdon saw Burke take a step back in surprise. He seemed to know that ape. „I did. Heard his wife threw it away, though. Because a human brought it.“

The guard rubbed his face, but said nothing.

„So... what now?“ Galen asked.

The guard shrugged. „We’ll return to our prefecture. As far as I’m concerned, you were rightfully employed by our prefect, so we have no reason to arrest you.“

Virdon was glad that they wouldn’t have to bomb their way out of this situation, but resolved to grill Galen about jurisdiction and the apes’ chain of command later. He had thought that as the head of police, Urko would outrank Kanla.

The guard waved for his comrades to collect Urko, but Burke stepped over the body. „Nope. He’s not going anywhere.“

The chimp regarded him for a moment, and Virdon wondered what he saw in Burke’s face. „You’ve been given a chance to escape, boy - don’t be stupid. I can’t let you kill the Chief General.“

Burke didn’t move. His hand tightened around the grenade until the knuckles went white.

„Let me talk to him,“ Virdon said.

The guard stared at him for a moment, then turned his horse and nodded to his comrades to retreat. Virdon slid down from Apache’s back and handed the rope to Galen. The ape tugged at Tala’s rope and moved out of hearing range, too.

Virdon stayed where he was.

Burke didn’t look at him. He was staring down at the unconscious gorilla.

„Pete.“

Burke shook his head, still staring at Urko. „He’s not gonna stop until _we_ stop him, Al. You know that.“

„I’m not going to let you kill an unconscious man. Or ape.“

„Just imagine he’s Hitler. Unconscious or not, doesn’t make a difference.“

Virdon took a step towards him. His leg was dragging a bit, but the pain was manageable. „You really want him to win?“

Now Burke did turn his head to him. „Oh come on, Al,“ he said, annoyed, „spare me the bullshit, will ya? It’s not about winning anything. It’s about surviving this genocidal maniac. In case you’ve forgotten, it’s not just us he wants to erase from the face of this planet, but every other human, too! I’d be doing us all a favor!“

Virdon took another step towards him. „What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul?“

A muscle ticked in Burke’s jaw. „And stop preaching to me. I don’t believe in souls.“

Virdon stopped. „Do you believe in honor?“

Burke didn’t answer, just took a deep breath.

„I know he took much from you, Pete,“ Virdon said softly. „Don’t let him take that, too.“

For a while, they listened to the wind rustling in the trees. Then Burke pocketed the grenade and bent down to the ape. When he straightened, Virdon saw that he had cut loose Urko’s ammunition belts. He threw them at Virdon’s feet and turned back to the ape.

„You’re right, Al.“ Burke straightened again and stepped away from the body. „I should start taking back the things he took from me.“ He held up a knife. „Starting with my ANSA knife.“ In his other hand, he was holding the sheath that he had cut off Urko’s belt a moment ago.

Virdon picked up the ammunition belts and began to load Betsy to hide his relief, and also to be on more equal grounds with the approaching guards. As soon as he was finished, though, Burke took the gun from his hands, and worked the lever. The guards stopped at the sound.

„It was empty,“ the mounted guard blurted out. Then he laughed. „Well played!“

Burke didn’t smile. He was aiming at the guard’s head. „So here’s the deal. We’ll go our separate ways, alright. Put down your weapons.“

The guard stared at him for a moment. „Haven’t we been there before? My comrades have your friend’s head in their sights. If I die, he dies, too.“

„I’ll let you take Urko,“ Burke ground out. „An’ that’s a big sacrifice for me. But I won’t let you take him and your weapons, and take up pursuit.“

„I told you we wouldn’t arrest you,“ the chimp said, irritated.

„An ape can tell a human anything, doesn’t mean shit,“ Burke snapped. „You put down your weapons, and you’ll get Urko. Or we’ll find out who’s faster with a gun.“ He lowered Betsy until the barrel pointed at Urko’s head. „So, you have my friend in your sights, an’ I have your general in mine. Who’s worth more, monkey? He, or a human?“

They stared at each other.

Then the chimp dropped his gun. Behind him, his comrades did the same.

Burke stepped back a bit and nodded to him to take Urko. „Al. Take those guns.“

With a sigh, Virdon limped over to collect the guns. „One for each of us, hm?“ he murmured to Burke when he returned to his side. „You don’t think that’ll paint an even bigger target on our backs?“

„For now, it’ll force them to return to base, instead of coming after us,“ Burke murmured back, without taking his eyes off the guards who were struggling to lift Urko’s body on his horse. That chimp must’ve hit him hard, Virdon mused.

Said chimp reined in his horse and glowered down at them. „I strongly advise you not to stop before you’re out of the prefecture,“ he said. „That means skipping the next town, as tempting as staying there might be for you.“ He flicked a meaningful glance to Zana’s still body on the drag sled. „You’d be doing yourselves _and_ me a favor.“ He spurred on his horse. Virdon turned slightly to follow them with his eyes.

„How fast do you think they’ll be on our trail again?“ he murmured.

Burke shrugged. „If he waits for his comrades on foot, not that fast. And I guess they’ll have their paws full when Urko wakes up.“ He turned away and started to walk over to where Galen was already urging on Tala.

„So you really want to keep all those guns?“ Virdon called after him.

Burke turned around. „Damn right I do. Face it, Al, these apes have called a war on us.

„An’ you don’t win a war by going in unarmed.“


	10. Chapter 10

_That’s it. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being sick!_

Zana’s head continued to pound, unimpressed by her annoyance. As long as she kept her eyes closed, though, the headache and the nausea were manageable. She tried not to listen to all the other aches and pains that were now slowly lighting up in her awareness; there were too many, and in unsettling places.

The light behind her eyelids was pale and steady - daylight, and suddenly she became aware of the sound of rain drumming softly against a windowpane. She was lying in a bed. Her hands brushed over the knobby surface of a woven blanket.

A shadow fell over her. „Zana? Are you awake? Thank the Mothers!“

Galen’s voice. He must’ve been in the room. She hadn’t been aware of his presence until now.

„A bit,“ she whispered. Why was her voice so weak? With effort, she managed, „I’m thirsty.“

„Yes, yes of course,“ She heard a chair creaking and then water gurgling as he rose from his seat beside her bed to pour her something to drink.

„Here, Zana, let me help you sit up a bit...“

It was strange - she wanted to sit up, wanted to open her eyes, wanted to feel _better_ now, but her body very much wanted to lie down again, keep her eyes shut, and sleep, and be left alone. She compromised by stopping Galen once she was in a half-sitting position, and cracking her eyes open just a little bit to squint at the cup under her nose. It was tea, not water, the steam transporting a bitter scent. „What is that?“

„That’s a, a tea from maidenhair leaves and yellow root. It reduces the swelling and the inflammation in the head, and makes the blood flow better.“

It was a sign of Galen’s nervousness that he explained the effect of every ingredient to her. Zana imagined her head was the size of a pumpkin, slowly being shrunk now by the tea. She took a sip, and gagged. „Is there _oil_ in that tea?“

„Ah, yes, that yellow root isn’t really water soluble, you see.“ The rim of the cup was pressed to her lips again. „A lot of people put butter in their tea, even when they’re not taking it as a medicine,“ Galen said encouragingly. „And now that you’re awake, you need to drink as much as possible of it. Doctor Lemar said it was important to drink it over several weeks, to prevent later complications...“

Zana forced another gulp down and hoped she wouldn’t throw up the next moment. „Doctor Lemar? I thought you were treating me.“ She cautiously peeked at Galen. Now that she had adjusted to her half-sitting position, her dizziness was slowly retreating.

Galen sighed and sank into his chair again. „Zana, I’m not a doctor. I didn’t even finish my studies, and the most I dare to do is treating inflamed udders and feverish humans. I will certainly not lay hands on my fiancée!“

Zana said nothing, and took another sip of her tea, more for Galen’s sake than her own. It tasted horrible, oily and bitter. „And you really think an old country doctor in some backwater town is better than you? Where are we, anyway?“

Galen took a deep breath and regarded her with a little ironic smile. „He must be doing something right - you’re almost your old, inquisitive self again. This little... _backwater town_ is called Silam, and unfortunately, it still belongs to Pendan prefecture.“

„Why unfortunately?“ She took another gulp from her mug, determined to empty it, to shrink her head back to normal size as quickly as possible, so that they could move away from a town that seemed to make Galen so nervous.

Her fiancé flicked her a quick glance, maybe realizing his mistake. „You... you don’t remember how we fled from that human village near Trion?“

„I do remember, Galen, I’m not senile,“ Zana said, slightly annoyed.

Galen rubbed his hands over his knees. „No, of course not, but a concussion can result in memory loss. Do you... do you remember what happened... back there?“

Bodies clumping around her, dragging her down like lead weights, scrabbling and digging and _biting..._

„No,“ she said, and emptied the cup. „I don’t remember anything after you gave me the knife.“

„Ah.“ Galen stared at the floor between his knees. „I see.“

It had been the right answer, Zana told herself. He looked relieved. „So... why ‘unfortunately’?“

Galen turned his palm upward. „Because Urko will search this prefecture up and down, and probably the neighbouring prefectures, too. And he, he knows you’ve been injured, so he knows we have to be hiding here somewhere.“ He quickly told her about their encounter with the general at the border of the Forbidden Zone. Peet had saved them with the human-made explosives he had found in that corridor.

She jerked away from the memory of that corridor as if it had singed her mind. That crawling, tearing, biting darkness... „Humans of old seemed to have been quite fond of blowing things up,“ she joked weakly.

Galen snorted. „Peet is inordinarily fond of using explosives, guns, and knives,“ he muttered. „One day he’ll blow _us_ up, mark my words.“

„He saved our lives with his gun and his... _grenades.“_ She formed the human word carefully, proud to have remembered it. Maybe her head was still working, despite its size.

Galen didn’t look convinced. „He is a human from that time. If all of them were that war-like, it’s no wonder that all that is left of them are ruins.“ He leaned over to tug at the pillow in her back, and from close up, she could see that he was clenching his jaw. „Warlike and selfish, with no regards to the dangers their obsession poses to others...“

He was talking about Alan, Zana realized. Alan and his insistence on exploring that tunnel, waking up the... the things in it. Like a child poking an anthill. She suddenly sensed the anger that was simmering under Galen’s concern for her. The outcome of this adventure had confirmed for him all the fears and prejudices apes held against humans.

She suddenly felt guilty for having let herself be dragged away. Over the last months, Galen had allowed a cautious friendship to develop between himself and the humans; now it seemed as if her carelessness had destroyed that fragile tendril of curiosity and understanding.

_I should’ve fought harder._

A sudden worry lanced through her chest. Had Galen punished Alan for what he thought was the human’s fault? „Where _are_ Peet and Alan?“

Galen sniffed and leaned back in his chair. „They are earning our rent, and the doctor’s bills... all our expenses, basically. I don’t have any money left, Zana - it all went up in flames, metaphorically speaking, when we had to abandon the wagon.“

Zana sat bolt upright, all her fears confirmed, then winced as a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. „You _sold_ them?“

„No,“ Galen huffed. „Why make a profit of them just once, when I can make one continuously? - I’m not really making a profit,“ he growled when he saw her glare. „But I need to pay for our stay here, so I hired them out.“

Zana let herself sink into the cushions again and closed her eyes. She felt Galen take the cup out of her hands. Maybe she could sleep a bit now. Maybe there had been a third herb in that tea, one that made her drowsy again... „What’d you make ‘m do?“

Galen pulled the cushion out from under her head, and she sank deeper, and that sinking feeling didn’t stop, and it felt good to just let go...

She didn’t hear his answer anymore.

* * *

The problem with basket weaving wasn’t that it was work that was given to old people and cripples - humans who weren’t able to do the hard labor that the apes typically subjected them to. The problem was that it was such a mentally undemanding work that Virdon had too much time to dwell on the fact that he was now sorted with the elderly and the cripples.

That, and a lot of other things he’d rather preferred not to think about. Like Sally, and Chris, and that daughter that he had come to call Hope, just to himself, so that he could call her by a name at all. While his fingers bent and crossed the stalks of his basket, Virdon tried to picture her. Her hair would be dark, like her mother’s, but she’d have his eyes; or maybe she’d have fair hair, and Sally’s hazel eyes. She’d have Sally’s dimples when she smiled. Chris would teach her how to ride a bike.

He cleared his throat and tried to listen to the stories that people were telling around him, but all the gossip referred to people he didn’t know, and his thoughts soon started to drift again.

Zana was still confined to her bed in that little inn they had found; it was tucked into a small side-alley, hopefully away from the eye of the law around here, or any patrols coming through. They had set up camp here, against that guard’s advice, because they had no other choice - Zana’s condition demanded bedrest, and a doctor.

Was he responsible for what had happened to her? He _felt_ responsible; but he hadn’t told them to follow them into the city.

_I didn’t tell them to stay away, though. Not that they’d have listened..._

His hand crept to the disc, then stopped as he remembered that Galen had it now. He felt naked without it, lost, as if he was now without a purpose.

_As soon as we’ve crossed the mountains, I’ll demand it back, and then we’ll part ways-_

A commotion at the door made him look up. Galen was there, talking in a low voice to the chimp overseer. He looked up as if he had sensed Virdon’s gaze, and waved him to come over.

Virdon put his half-finished basked down and reached for his crutch. Nobody paid him any attention as he slowly made his way through stacks of finished baskets and heaps of fresh willow branches. Galen didn’t acknowledge him, either, just turned and left, forcing Virdon to follow him outside. The afternoon was hot and humid, the default weather in this part of the country. The air was almost too thick to breathe.

„What’s wrong?“ Virdon asked and stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow. „They won’t pay you as much if you call me out early.“

Galen waved dismissively. „They didn’t pay very well anyway. I have something more important for you to do.“ He quickly strode off, and Virdon had to struggle to keep up. Galen didn’t show any consideration for his impaired leg anymore, a demonstration of his fury over the debacle in that city. As far as the chimp was concerned, there was no question of who was responsible for Zana’s injuries.

When they finally reached the stables where Tala and Apache were kept, Virdon was hot and out of breath, and ready to trip Galen with his crutch. Before he could give in to that temptation, the ape had vanished into the tack room at the end of the aisle. Virdon stopped a moment to greet Tala, before he limped after him.

„Peet found a man who sells leather hides for an affordable price,“ Galen said and gestured at a heap of apricot-colored sheets on a table. „He assured me that you could make saddlebags out of them.“

Virdon slowly approached the table that was normally used as a workplace to repair horse tack, and fingered the leather. „It’s a bit thin,“ he said doubtfully, „and a bit too soft. I might have to use a double layer, and that means we’ll need twice the amount of leather. I don’t know if it’s still such a good deal then, Ga... Kova.“

„A less indulgent master would let you taste the cane for that kind of familiarity.“

Both Virdon and Galen spun round at the new voice from the door. Virdon took a deep breath as he recognized the chimp from their last encounter with Urko. It was the guard who had advised them to skip this town, as it was still part of Prefect Kanla’s domain.

„How did you find us?“ Virdon asked hoarsely.

The ape flicked him a contemptuous glance. „I just assumed you’d be too stupid to heed good advice. And this town isn’t very big. Word gets around, especially when visitors have such a striking human - unusual color, a limp...“ He slowly stepped into the room, thumbs tucked into his belt. „If I didn’t have any difficulties finding you, imagine how quickly Urko would find you here.“

„And yet, he hasn’t,“ Galen pointed out, his voice as light and unconcerned as ever, with only the slightest hint of tension underneath.

The guard shrugged. „Urko is on his way to the City right now, but he’s left his trusted lieutenant behind to go looking for you, and from what I’ve seen, Nelva is awfully motivated. One really has to wonder what you did to piss off the general so much.“

Galen didn’t dignify this with an answer. „Why are you here?“

„The prefect sends me.“ The guard unhooked a pouch from his belt and dropped it on the table. „With your money.“

Galen pursed his lips and took up the pouch, weighed it in his hand for a moment, and set it back down on the table. „That is way too much money.“

The guard raised his brows. „You’d be the first to complain about that.“

Galen lifted a corner of his mouth. „In my experience, people rarely overpay. If they seem to do so, it’s always an advance for future services. And I don’t intend to render any more services to Prefect Kanla. The ones I did already got me in deep trouble.“

The other chimp smiled, and Virdon felt his unease grow. The guard had already shown Galen the carrot _and_ the stick, and if Galen dug his heels in like he did right now, Kanla’s man might feel forced to increase the pressure. For some reason, Virdon was sure that the guard wouldn’t take no for an answer.

„You’re right, Kanla needs you to do something for her,“ the guard admitted. „But it’s no big thing. You just need to write a letter.“

„A letter,“ Galen repeated flatly. „What kind of letter?“

„A letter of recommendation.“ The guard hesitated and glanced meaningfully at Virdon.

„He can stay,“ Galen said, his voice as carefully expressionless as before. „He doesn’t talk to outsiders.“

„Fine,“ the guard said hesitantly. „You remember how I saved your life back at the border? That got me into some deep trouble of my own with the general. Kanla made sure I kept my job,“ he smiled wryly, „and my life, but that’ll end as soon as she’s no longer prefect. And if Urko gets his way, back in the big City, that day will come very soon.“

„So he wants to unseat her,“ Galen said slowly. „I was right.“ He turned away and stepped around the table, brushing his fingertips over the leather. „What do I have to do with that?“

„Kanla thinks that you know people in high places,“ the chimp said, his eyes burning into Galen’s back. „She needs someone to speak on her behalf, someone with political weight. She thinks you know someone who would do that... if you wrote them a letter.“

Virdon wondered what had happened between Galen and the prefect that had given him away. Granted, he still had that upper-class aura of sophistication and privilege...

Galen still didn’t raise his gaze from the hides, but his fingers had stilled on the leather. „What makes her think that?“

„I don’t know,“ the guard said. He came to Galen’s side. „But I trust her judgment. Write that letter, and my men will send Nelva on a wild goose chase up and down the prefecture. Before he finds your scent again, you’ll be halfway up the mountains.“

For a moment, Galen stared at the pouch that still sat on the table, fat and silent. Then he grabbed it and held it out to the guard. „I’m sorry, but Prefect Kanla is mistaken. I don’t know anyone in the City. I can’t help her.“

The guard stared down at him, and for a moment, Virdon was sure he’d bring up Urko’s knockout again. He had saved their lives then, and that was a debt Galen couldn’t wiggle out of.

But the guard just stepped back. „Keep it. It’s payment for the treatment of our humans.“

Galen followed him with a strained smile and pressed the pouch into his hands. „I insist. As I said, it’s way too much.“

„You should leave the prefecture,“ Virdon said, surprising himself. The guard turned his head to stare at him in disbelief. „You did save our lives back at the zone’s border,“ Virdon continued, blithely disregarding protocol, „you shouldn’t lose yours because of it. I’m sure there are prefectures outside Urko’s reach.“

„I can’t leave,“ the guard muttered after a moment of stunned silence. „I have... a family back in Trion that I need to take care of. And they wouldn’t go with me, so...“ He shrugged. „I just have to hope for the best. I’ll be around for a bit longer, in case your master reconsiders.“ With a last meaningful glance towards Galen, he left.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

„Say it,“ Galen muttered, not looking at him. „Give me your opinion.“

„In my opinion...“ Virdon said slowly, “... you paid too much for that leather. It’s not really suited for saddlebags, but I’ll do my best.“

Galen huffed and turned away. „ _That’s_ what’s foremost on your mind?“

„I know nothing about your connections in the City,“ Virdon lied. He knew that Galen’s father sat in the council, but Galen’s relationship with Yalu was... complicated. And nothing he wanted to comment on. _And I know you don’t really want to know my opinion on anything right now._ „So I... defer to your judgment.“

„Now if that wouldn’t be a first,“ Galen murmured. He sighed. „Do what you can with that leather, and do it quick. I want to leave by tomorrow morning.“ He started for the door. „And make another sled for Ahpahchee, too, so we can distribute the load more evenly.“

„Is Zana... is she fit to travel?“

Galen didn’t turn around. „She has to be.“


	11. Chapter 11

„You know, you go to school, you work hard, you fly a spaceship... then you end up shoveling horseshit for a living.“ Peet sighed dramatically and dragged the chair closer to Zana’s bed. „If someone had told me I’d be a stablehand in the service of walking, talking apes, I’d have called the guys in the white suits for them. But here I am.“ He dropped an orange into her lap. „Here, brought you something. Tastes a bit better than the stuff that crusty old doctor forces you to drink all the time.“

„That’s so sweet of you,“ Zana murmured. „I’ll eat it later, if you don’t mind.“

„Nah, ‘course not.“ Peet plucked the orange from the bedcover and began to peel it. The sweet scent of citrus filled Zana’s nose. „For later,“ the human said. „Ready to eat... ready when you are.“

For now, Zana was content to inhale the fresh aroma of the fruit; she didn’t think she could eat anything at all without throwing up. She turned her head to squint at Peet, who was still focused on peeling his orange. „You don’t smell like horseshit,“ she whispered. That earned her a sideways glance and a quick smile.

„I washed up before I came here. I’m civilized, y’know?“

„No you’re not,“ Zana murmured, smiling against her will. „You’re a feral beast, but I like you that way.“

„Feral, huh?“ She heard him snort; her eyes were falling shut again.

Fighting against the drowsiness, she forced them open again. „So what’s going on? Galen won’t tell me anything.“ If he kept talking, perhaps she could stay awake a little bit longer. This constant weariness was beginning to worry her.

Peet shrugged and leaned over to put the peeled orange on her nightstand; he kept the rind, rubbing it between his fingers. „There’s not much to tell, really. Galen has hired us out... I’m down at the stables, shoveling oats into one end of the horses, and shoveling the shit that comes out of the other end, and Al ended up with the women and old people to make baskets and stuff. Because of his leg, you see? Can’t do any hard work anymore.“

He paused for a moment, chewing his lip. „Al doesn’t talk much, but I can’t imagine he’s taking it well. He’s always been fit and, and active _,_ and now he’s suddenly being treated like a useless cripple... can’t be easy for him.“

„He’ll get better,“ Zana whispered. „Kira said it, too, it just takes a long time for a nerve to heal. He needs to be patient.“

Peet snorted and leaned back in the chair. „I think Al’s done with being patient. He wants to go home so badly, it’s like he’s gonna explode any moment. He’s getting all quiet and... and _concentrated,_ you just know something’s coming, something big.“

Zana remembered how Alan had been when they had been searching for Peet; how he had exploded when they had tried to talk him out of his idea to go into the ruins to search for something to help him get home. If Peet regarded that incident as minor, she didn’t want to know what a big outburst would look like. „What do you suggest we should do?“

Peet shook his head. „No idea. It’s not as if any of us could get him home, right? Oh man, here I’m talking your ears off about Al, when it’s you who’s in pain! How are you anyway? How’s your head?“

„I’m fine,“ Zana lied. „Just tired all the time.“

„Yeah, you bumped your head pretty hard,“ Peet said, his eyes fixed on the orange peel in his hand. „Al is... is really sorry about that. He feels responsible... even if he didn’t tell any of us to come with him.“

„I’m not holding him responsible,“ Zana whispered. „It was my own decision to follow him into that city.“

„That’s... really decent of you, but I doubt it’ll change anything for Al... or for Galen. Galen’s really mad at him.“ He huffed a laugh. „He’s even mad at me, by extension. Humans, eh? They’re all the same.“ He sighed. „Can’t really fault him for being angry, though. Guess Al would’ve been like this, too, if it had been his wife...“

„Galen will calm down again.“ She didn’t really feel up to playing peacemaker right now. „As soon as I’m recovered, this episode will fade for him, too. We’ll be up to our ears in another disaster by then, anyway.“

„God, you’re starting to sound as cynical as me. Must’ve been the blow to your head.“ Peet finally raised his gaze again, his dark eyes scanning her body as if he could detect her cuts and bruises through the bedspread. „What about the rest, by the way? Did you... did you bump your belly, too? Any pains or, I dunno, anything different than before, down there?“

The silence was suddenly thick and suffocating; Zana brushed her hands over the bedspread, over her belly. „I don’t... I’m not sure,“ she said in a low voice. „The baby is... very quiet, since I woke up.“

„Maybe... maybe it just needs some rest, too?“ Peet suggested hesitantly.

„Yes. Maybe.“ And maybe she shouldn’t talk about these things with a human, but in a way, it was easier to talk to them than to an ape; a human didn’t judge. „But it should move at least a _bit?_ At least some of the time? It just... I just don’t feel it moving anymore _at all!“_ She finally looked up at him and saw her own worry reflected in Peet’s eyes.

„Have you told Galen, or that doctor?“

„No, I-“ A sudden stab of pain made her eyes squeeze shut, and for a moment, she couldn’t see, couldn’t talk.

„What? What’s wrong, Zana?“ She heard the chair’s legs scrape across the floor as Peet jumped up.

„Zana! Talk to me, girl!“ Peet was hovering over her, grabbing her shoulders.

„Just a cramp,“ she gasped, when the pain subsided. „A, a cramp in my back...“

Then the next wave came, and this time, it wasn’t just in the small of her back, but lanced into her thighs, and her belly, a sick, dragging pain that made her insides feel weak and hot.

It felt _wrong._

„It... hurts...“

Peet was still grabbing her shoulders; his face was tense with worry. „Have you had this before?“

The next wave of cramps hit her with full force, and she could only shake her head.

„I think we should call the doctor...“ Peet began, but she grabbed his wrists in sudden panic.

„No, not the doctor. Not the... Galen. Call Galen...“

Peet nodded. „Okay. Okay. I’m gonna get Galen here. Just... just don’t panic. It’s gonna be okay. He’ll know what to do.“

Zana froze, her breath trapped in her chest. Above her, Peet went pale. „Zana? Don’t... what’s wrong?“

„I think my water just broke,“ she whispered. There was something hot and wet spreading under her, soaking the mattress, soaking her nightgown.

Peet stared at her for a moment, then, before she could stop him, lifted the bedspread. She saw his nostrils flare at the sight; his face went from pale to gray. „Shit!“

He dropped the blanket. „I’ll get Galen.“

„Wait, what’s...“ But he had already bolted. Zana swallowed and threw the bedspread aside.She stared at the mattress, the nightgown, the blanket...

Everything was soaked with blood.

* * *

Galen tried not to look at what the midwife was doing between Zana’s legs, which was difficult, because he had been seated at the headboard to hold Zana’s hand, and was literally with his back against the wall. So he stared down at their intertwined fingers, knuckles white from the intensity of Zana’s grasp, and stroked her arm with his free hand. Zana was staring up at the ceiling, trying very hard not to cry.

The room stank of blood. That was the other thing that was hard to ignore.

Finally, the old chimp straightened, drew the bedcover over Zana’s legs, and walked to the water basin in the corner of the room to wash her hands. Her old, wrinkled face was unreadable when she came back to sit on the edge of the bed opposite of Galen. She put her hand on Zana’s arm and spoke only to her:

„That baby in your belly isn’t moving anymore.“

Zana nodded. Galen could hear her swallow.

„That baby also doesn’t have a heartbeat anymore.“

Zana drew a long, wet breath. A sigh, a sob.

„That baby must go now, or it will take you with it into the spirit world.“

Zana pulled her hand away from under the midwife’s hand, and covered her eyes. She was sobbing now, through clenched teeth, still trying to suppress her anguish, trying to maintain her composure.

Galen wiped his own free hand over his eyes.

„You need to drink this tea, as much of it as you can, all the time would be best,“ he heard the midwife’s voice. „So that your bleeding stops. And this one, you drink one cup every four hours, and during the night, every five hours. This one will make your womb pull together and push out the baby.“

Galen took a deep breath and let his hand fall into his lap again to see what the old chimp had dropped on the nightstand. Two leather pouches, one of them red. „The... the red one is to push out the baby?“ he asked hoarsely. Despite his misery, he was faintly curious which herbs she was using, but didn’t dare to ask. The healers and midwives looked with distrust at the learned young doctors from the big City down south, and he didn’t want to alienate her.

„No, that one is to stop the bleeding.“ She didn’t come forward with an explanation of the ingredients.

„I’ll make sure she drinks the tea,“ Galen promised. He rose and followed the healer to the door. „What if... if the bleeding doesn’t stop?“ he whispered.

„Then you have to call Doctor Lemar,“ the old woman murmured. „And he’ll need to take out the bleeding womb. Otherwise your wife will die. She may still die from that surgery.“

Galen jerked back. „But that... that would mean she’ll never have another baby anymore!“ Zana had kept her baby secret from him for months, because she was worried he’d demand an abortion. She had wanted this baby so much. She would never agree to this surgery.

He shook his head. „Oh, we... we won’t do that. That... surgery. I’m, I’m sure it won’t be necessary. You’re a very knowledgeable healer, and I have _complete_ faith in your skill.“

The old woman looked at him with something like pity in her eyes. „Your wife looks as if she had been torn apart by wild animals. She is very lucky to be alive herself. But the damage to the child was too great.“

„But the cuts over her belly weren’t that deep,“ Galen wondered. It couldn’t be true, it _couldn’t._ „Not even the muscles were injured!“

„You told me that she had a fall, and that she probably fell on her belly,“ the old woman reminded him. „Something was torn inside, and that is what’s bleeding so much. She can bleed to death on the inside, just as one can bleed _out.“_

„I understood that,“ Galen said hastily, „and as much as it pains me to lose our child, I’m glad that I didn’t lose Zana, too. But if she loses her... I mean... she’ll never be able to have another child. And she loves children! She’ll never be happy again!“

The midwife patted his arm gently, as she had done with Zana before. „Happiness is found in the spirit, not in other people. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Mothers will decide if she will have other babies in the future.“

„Isn’t... isn’t there anything else you can do to save my wife?“ Galen asked desperately. „I heard that some healers use needles, or burn incense...“

The chimp scrunched her nose. „I don’t use needles. But Doctor Lemar does. Maybe you ask him about that.“ She hesitated, then added grudgingly, „He’s quite good with them.“

„I’ll make sure to ask him right away,“ Galen promised. He’d try anything to save Zana’s... Zana’s happiness. For some reason, he was absolutely certain that if Zana had to undergo that surgery, she’d convince herself that he’d welcome her infertility, irrational as that conviction would be. Even after he had confronted her with the truth, she had accused him of pressuring her for an abortion, although he had never done such a thing.

He closed the door behind her and leaned his head against it for a moment, before he strode to the little tea oven to get more hot water for her tea.

„Don’t say it,“ Zana ground out when he returned to her side to prepare her tea.

„Don’t say what?“ Galen repeated, puzzled.

„Don’t say, ‘I told you so’,“ Zana said, her voice thick with tears. „Don’t tell me I should’ve stayed in the City, with your parents, that the baby could still be alive, and...“

Galen put the leather pouch down and sat down on the edge of her bed. „I’d never even _think_ of blaming you for that, Zana!“ He caressed her face. „And with the latest developments in the City, I don’t know if you’d be that safe there now, either. All I want is for you to be safe. If anything, I’m blaming myself for being so reckless...“

„I don’t regret coming with you! I don’t regret _being_ with you! I just regret going into that human city...“ She took a shuddering breath, digging her fists into her eyes.

Galen dropped into the chair and buried his face in his hands. Something big and dark was moving under his anguish, something furious and implacable. He didn’t dare to look at it; if he did, it would come rushing at him, into him, and when it was moving through him, there was no knowing what he would do.

„But Alan told us we could wait for him, it was my own decision, it was _my fault...“_ Zana sobbed, and Galen felt the darkness hiss inside him, felt it flare up like a black flame.

Because it wasn’t Zana’s fault. It wasn’t. It _wasn’t_.

It was _his_ _own_ fault, for allowing a human to make the decisions for their group, for letting a human take the lead. What kind of insanity had possessed him to follow a human, instead of making _it_ follow the ape?

And how predictable the results had been... Let Man lead, and it will lead you into the Wasteland. Man was the harbinger of death. The death of their baby.

Maybe even the death of Zana, too.


	12. Chapter 12

Burke hesitated in the door to the tack room for a moment, not sure if he should address his friend at all. Virdon was either ignoring him on purpose, or was completely focused on his work; he was sewing up the saddlebags for their horses. Pieces of already cut leather were spread out on the table. Virdon’s face was calm, not betraying any emotion.

„Hey Al,“ Burke began hesitantly. „Don’t know if the news have reached you in here, but... it’s not looking so good for Zana right now. Galen just sent me to get the doctor. She, uh, the bleeding won’t stop. That tea and acupuncture stuff aren’t working, and the baby hasn’t come out, either...“

Virdon didn’t answer, although his hands stilled. His gaze was fixed on the piece of leather in his lap, the awl in his hand.

„I’m gonna wait in the corridor,“ Burke continued. „I mean, they won’t need us in there, but, well...“

„I don’t think Galen would want me to loiter in the corridor,“ Virdon murmured after a moment.

„Yeah, maybe not, but this isn’t about him, right? It’s about Zana.“

Virdon sighed and put the leather aside. „Right. Get the doctor, I’ll meet you at the inn.“

„Yep.“ Burke pushed away from the doorframe. It was no use talking to Al when he was in that kind of mood, and he didn’t have any more time to waste, anyway; if Galen knew he’d made a detour to the stables first, he’d be livid.

He was lucky - the doc wasn’t out to treat some farmer lodging miles away. The old chimp listened to his hasty report, shook his head, and grabbed his bag. Burke found the expression on the doc’s face worrying, but didn’t ask. It wasn’t as if he would’ve gotten an answer anyway; apes didn’t confide in humans.

Al was waiting outside the inn when they arrived; he probably didn’t want to risk running into Zana’s enraged fiancé upstairs. Burke lingered for a moment, too, leaving it to the doctor to find his way alone. „She’s gonna be okay. She’s tough.“

Virdon just shot him a look, then turned and limped inside.

By an unspoken agreement, they hovered by the window at the end of the corridor, far away from the door to Zana’s room, and from the sounds that filtered through it. There was a chair under the window, but Virdon didn’t sit down; he limped up and down the narrow corridor, three paces back and forth. After watching him for a moment, Burke sat down on the chair.

From Zana’s door came faint sounds - two male voices speaking, though the words were muffled and unintelligible. Zana sobbing. Something heavy was scraped across the floor. Something clinked.

„Uh, how are those saddlebags coming along?“ Burke asked, desperate to drown out the ominous sounds with his voice. „I mean, seems we won’t leave by morning now,“ he continued, when Virdon didn’t answer. „Guess I need to organize a bit more ammo, in case that lieutenant turns up in town...“

„Do you think they’ll try a cesarean in there?“ Virdon interrupted him. He was staring down the corridor, at the door. „It can’t be sterile in that room at all, not like Kira’s operating room...“

„I’ve no idea, Al,“ Burke said, unnerved. „But he’s been a doctor for a long time, an’ Galen knows a thing or two, too, so I guess they know what they’re doing.“

„Yep.“ Virdon was still staring down the corridor, as if he could see through that door if he was just staring hard enough.

Burke, for his part, was glad that they _weren’t_ forced to watch. Or made to _help._ The one time when he had been forced to play anesthesist for Al in Kira’s clinic had been more than enough. Pete Burke wasn’t a doctor, no sir.

He just wished they weren’t forced to listen, either. Zana was making deep, loud sounds now, sounds that were turning his stomach. Did they go _without_ anestesia in there? „Uh, Tala’s stitches should be pulled soon, the thread is growing into her skin,“ he raised his voice. „Don’t want them to start festering, or something. Jesus, Al, talk to me! You can’t want to _listen_ to that!“

Virdon didn’t turn his head. „If you can’t bear to witness her suffering, why are you here?“

Burke spread his arms. „Moral support? I mean, she’s in there because of... of us, right?“

Virdon finally turned around. „Because of me, you mean.“

„Well...“

„I didn’t ask you to follow me.“

„You’d be dead now if we hadn’t followed you.“

„That’s a risk I was willing to take.“

Burke jumped up. „ _Willing_ to take? Seems to me you were awfully _eager_ to take that risk, Al! Isn’t suicide a sin in your religion?“

Virdon let himself drop against the wall. „I wasn’t trying to commit suicide.“

Burke huffed. „Well, I’m glad you told me that, ‘cause from where I’m standing, it’s hard to decide. But what’s worse is that you were perfectly okay with taking that risk not just for your own life, but for ours as well. And don’t start with the ‘I didn’t ask you to come’ crap again. We survived until now because we have each other’s back. You _knew_ we wouldn’t let you go in there alone!“

He gestured towards the door to Zana’s room. „Zana’s paying the price for that now. Do you still think it was worth it?“

Virdon cocked his head and pieced him with a sharp glance. „What do _you_ want, Pete?“

Burke frowned. „What do you mean, what do I want?“

Virdon made a sweeping gesture with his arm. „What do you want to do with the rest of your life, assuming we survive Urko? You’ve been telling me over and over again that there’s no chance in hell we’ll ever return home, so- where do you see yourself, five years from now? Here, on this planet, in this time?“

Burke slowly sat down again. „I dunno, I haven’t really thought about it, I guess... I mean, doesn’t make much sense to plan that far ahead if I don’t know if I’ll even live that long.“

Virdon smiled a joyless smile. „Humor me, Pete - assume you do survive that long. What kind of life do you want to make for yourself here? They don’t have spaceships here, they don’t even have planes, and honestly, I can’t see you tilling the soil for the rest of your life.“

„Hell, no!“ Burke scoffed. „Can’t see myself as a farmer, either. Guess I’ll find a place where the apes aren’t breathing down my neck...“

„They’re everywhere,“ Virdon interrupted him. „You’ll have to take them into account.“

„No, I don’t,“ Burke said heatedly. „If I don’t find a place where I can be free, I’ll make one. Maybe... maybe I’ll find Katlin, join her group. Depends on where _you_ are in five years. If you’re still hell-bent on getting yourself killed, I guess I’ll have to babysit you to the end of our lives.“

Virdon looked away. „You shouldn’t make your life contingent on mine.“

„You’re my piece of 21st century Earth, Al,“ Burke confessed, feeling embarrassed for baring his soul like that. But if it helped Virdon to get off his suicidal quest for miracle tech... „Can’t give that up.“

Virdon was staring down at his feet. Burke fervently wished he’d say something, wouldn’t leave his confession hanging so awkwardly between them.

But his friend kept silent, and now Burke realized that the sounds behind the door had stopped, too. Virdon slowly slid down the wall until he sat on the floor, his hands gripping the crutch lying across his lap.

They listened to the silence.

Virdon’s question continued to nag at Burke. Yeah, Al did know what he wanted; he wanted it so badly that he was willing to pay any price for it. Burke wondered if there was anything in his own life now that he could want so desperately, so absolutely, that he’d sacrifice everything he had, and even the things that weren’t his to sacrifice. Suppose a genie offered him a ride home, but he’d have to leave Al behind?

 _Guess I’d give my seat to Al then._ Couldn’t break the poor bastard’s heart like that, could he? And Al had a family back home, while he... he...

He’d be stuck with Galen and Zana here then. Good thing genies didn’t exist.

The gray light of morning was creeping into the hallway when the door finally opened and the doctor left. He didn’t even glance at them, but that was okay, because Galen was standing under the door, and his attention was burning into Burke like lava.

He rose from the chair. „How is Zana? Is she... she...?“

He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question.

Galen kept his attention on him, very obviously not looking at Virdon. „She survived.“

Burke closed his eyes. „Oh, good!“

“... but the baby didn’t.“

With a sigh, Burke dropped into his chair again. He rubbed his face. „Damn. That’s... I’m so sorry, Galen, I’m... I don’t know what to say...“

„The doctor wasn’t able to stop the bleeding,“ Galen continued, his voice hard and expressionless. Burke looked up, dread pooling in his gut. Something else was coming, and it couldn’t be good.

„He had to... stop the bleeding _somehow,“_ Galen continued after a moment of silence. „So he had to... to... she won’t be able to have children anymore. Not ever.“

The door closed with a soft click before Burke could say anything.

* * *

_Dear Father,_

Galen stared at the words for a moment, then made a careful stroke.

_~~Dear~~ Father, _

_I hope this letter finds you and Mother in good health. Zana and I-_

He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes. Should he tell Yalu about Zana’s... predicament? He could almost feel his father’s fury, blaming him for allowing her to tag along, insisting that as her fiancé and future husband, it would’ve been not only his right, but his duty to forbid her to come with them, and to order her to stay at Yalu’s house, just as his father had proposed the last time they were in the City.

He sighed, and continued.

_~~Dear Father~~ Sir, _

_I hope this letter finds you and Mother in good health. Zana and I are well, as far as that is possible under the circumstances. I must say, though, that I heard unsettling news about Urko’s latest activities regarding the Council and the Council Eldest, and I hope he hasn’t extended his measures to other members of the Council. These new developments vindicate my decision to take Zana with me - it seems the City is becoming quite dangerous to people the Chief General disagrees with._

_Which brings me to the occasion that prompted this letter. Whatever Urko is planning - and I am confident that whatever it is, you will keep on top of it - he isn’t confining himself to the City alone. It seems he is also purging the surrounding prefectures from police chiefs and prefects that don’t agree with his political ambitions, and supplants them with his own people. I don’t have to point out to you how dangerous that will become once the number of his followers has reached a tipping point. It is one thing to reform the City Guard; it is quite another to build an army that can choke the City if it doesn’t yield to Urko’s vision, whatever it might be._

_Specifically, Urko now seeks to unseat Prefect Kanla of Pendan Prefecture. She had to deal with an outbreak of human swamp fever lately, and was able to get it under control thanks to the help of a traveling veterinarian, who wrote up a complete report that includes all measures, as well as the medicines used. I’m sure that the surrounding prefectures can profit from the gathered knowledge, as well - they all have to deal with the same propagating conditions. However, in his zeal to erase all humans from our world, Urko set the human village on fire, and also pursued the veterinarian, because in his madness, he confused Dr. Kova with the fugitive Atiba Galen and his entourage, a similarity that was, as I can assure you, entirely coincidental._

_Now the general is appealing to the Council to persecute Prefect Kanla for aiding and abetting an enemy of the state; let me say it again that the prefect dealt only with Dr. Kova and his wife, and at no point even dreamed of helping a wanted criminal. I am also positive that the general can offer not a single shred of evidence for his claim that he had apprehended the fugitives, nor can he justify the wilful destruction of the prefecture’s workforce._

_So I am respectfully asking you to speak for Prefect Kanla in this matter, who I’m sure will prove a valuable asset in the ~~dangerous~~ interesting times to come. _

_I hope to be able to write to you again in the near future, but since I’m also sure that your mail is being monitored, I will restrict my letters to occasions that necessitate a contact. Rest assured that you and Mother are always in my thoughts. I hope that one day, we may be able to talk to each other in person again. Until then I remain_

_Your faithful son_

Galen stared at the letter, then sighed and reached for a fresh sheet to make a neat copy. There was no way he could send it directly to his father, not with Urko clamping down on his enemies right now. He’d have to send it to Melvin’s cousin Ango first, who was a monk in a temple just outside the City, and who’d give it to Melvin, and Melvin...

His fingers stilled over the paper for a moment, as he tried to picture that scene - Melvin and his father in one room. Throughout his youth, Galen had managed to never bring his friends home while his father was there, too, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine how those two would get along - one insulting people on purpose, the other out of sheer obliviousness, one sensitive to insults aimed at him, the other completely oblivious in that regard, too.

He wished he could be the fly on the wall in that moment.

He wished he could be back in the City, back at his university, back in his old life. He hadn’t read a single page of that cursed book in weeks, and didn’t even miss it. There had been a time when ‘the truth’ had seemed to be the most important thing to strive for, worth every sacrifice. He had fooled himself into believing that, if he spread the truth he found in that book among his fellow apes, he could start a revolution.

But now, in this tiny room in that tiny inn, with a dead baby and a wounded mate on his conscience, that dream seemed to be nothing more than the folly of a child. An angry, proud child who thought that knowing things nobody else knew would somehow make him get even with his father.

Most probably, nobody would even care for the shocking truth about humans. Whatever they had been once, they were nothing now. Nothing at all. Slaves, animals, not people. Not the noble and smart creatures that Zana had seen in them. She had been infatuated with them, nothing more, and he had allowed that rosy image to influence his thinking, too.

Galen thumped his palm on the table. _This_ was of real importance - Urko’s plans to usurp the power from the council, and to crush any dissenters in his way. Simian matters. He’d take care of the apes’ concerns from now on.

He just hoped Zana would wake up to reality now, too.

* * *

Galen found the guard at the bigger of the two inns of Silam, drinking cider and playing _keppa_ with some local guards. When the Chimp saw him, he immediately cashed in his money and sauntered over to him. „Doctor Kova. You look stressed, my friend. Let me invest my freshly won money and invite you for a drink.“

They settled at the bar, and at the guard’s wave, the barmaid set a tankard with cider in front of Galen. The metal was cool when he closed his hands around it, and with a sigh, he took a deep draw. The cider was cold, and sweet, with a hint of tartness and alcohol. It was divine.

He could get used to this.

„So, I gather you did reconsider, after all,“ Kanla’s officer murmured without looking at him, and raised his own mug to his mouth. „Remembered someone you do know?“

„I give no guarantees that they will even consider my request,“ Galen murmured back. „They are... not especially fond of me.“

„Noted. Still, it’s better than nothing.“

The Chimp took a deep draw from his mug, and Galen used the opportunity to quickly scan the barroom. He was a stranger in this little town, and so was the guard, and that meant they were doubly noticeable to the good citizens of Silam. He had actually planned on doing this little transaction somewhere more private, but the ape had simply taken him by surprise. Still, nobody seemed to spare them a second glance.

„No worries, Doctor.“ The guard gave him an amused sideways glance. „I come up here from time to time. The guard knows me.“

Galen took a hasty draw from his own mug to cover his embarrassment. He certainly had no talent for those clandestine meetings; Mothers knew why Melvin found the idea so exciting. „Whoever delivers that letter can’t go directly to my contact,“ he said when he set down the mug. „There’s a monastery outside the City, dedicated to Blue Eyes. Ask for _Privat_ Ango. He’ll pass it along.“

„That’ll cost us time we don’t have,“ the guard objected. Galen wondered for a moment if he should ask his name, then decided against it. The less he knew, the better he felt.

„If it’s delivered directly, it could cost my contact’s _life,_ and that’s not a risk I’m willing to take,“ Galen said grimly.

„Fair enough.“ The guard twisted a bit away from him; when he turned back, he held the pouch of money in his hand that he had offered him earlier. He dropped it beside Galen’s mug. „Your money for getting our humans back in shape.“

This time, Galen wasn’t complaining - as he had told Zana earlier, they were as poor as dogs now. If they wanted to survive, they’d have to find a way to earn some money on the road.

Not as a veterinarian, though. Urko knew that identity now, and would amend his wanted posters accordingly. Speaking of Urko...

„Did anyone survive the general’s inferno?“ Galen had to ask; the guard couldn’t know that they had used Kanla’s humans to shake off Urko’s troupe in the swamp.

„About two thirds of the village.“ The guard shrugged. „If Kanla wins this trial, she’ll sue the City for compensation for the killed livestock. I mean, humans breed quickly enough, but it takes so damn long for the young to grow up. We’ll need to buy replacements.“

„I need you to do something else for me,“ Galen said. He didn’t want to hear about humans right now. He didn’t even want to _think_ about humans, because then he’d have to think about their own two, and what to do with them.

The guard raised his brows. „Payment doesn’t suit you?“

„No, no, it’s fine,“ Galen assured him hastily. In fact, the payment was more than generous - and with Zana’s deteriorated condition, had been the reason why he had relented in the end. He needed to buy another wagon, before Nelva descended on this town. „But you said you could throw Urko’s men off our scent for a while...“

„Ah.“ The guard grinned. „I could do that... if I knew why the general is so eager to catch you.“

Galen frowned. „That’s irrelevant for what I’m asking of you.“

„Sure it is.“ The guard emptied his mug. „I’m just curious. So humor me.“

„It’s political.“ Galen fastened the money pouch to his belt. „And that’s all I’m going to say about the matter.“

He fully expected the guard to insist on the details in exchange for his help, but the Chimp just held out his hand. „The letter.“

Galen stared at him. „Will you delay Nelva?“

The guard held his gaze, slowly wiping the cider from his mouth. „I’ll do my best. You should still get to the mountains as quickly as possible.“

Galen reached into his robe and handed him the scroll. „Believe me, I’d fly if I could.“ He nodded at the letter. „Destroy that letter before you let it fall into the wrong hands. It can greatly endanger the recipient.“ _And me,_ he added silently, although he suspected that neither Kanla nor her armsman would care about his fate.

The guard saluted him with the scroll. „Don’t worry, Doctor - that letter is safe with me.“ He threw some _sembles_ on the counter and sauntered off, patting Galen’s shoulder in passing.

Galen tiredly rubbed his eyes and took another draw. He’d need to buy a wagon, a new harness, stock up their supplies...

His hand closed around the disc hanging from his neck.

And he had to give this thing back to the humans.


	13. Chapter 13

Virdon slowly closed the door behind him, careful not to make a sound. With all the curtains drawn, the room was bathed in a dim half-light, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

Zana was lying in bed, a silent heap of suffering; only the dark blob of her head was visible. Virdon hoped she was at least half awake. He didn’t want to disturb her if she _was_ sleeping, but this was probably his only chance to see her and to... to do what he had come to do.

She didn’t stir when he sat down in the chair beside her bed and laid his gifts on the nightstand - candied fruit and nuts, an almond paste that was similar to marzipan. „Zana?“ he said in a low voice. „Zana, are you awake? - I’ll go if you’re really asleep, I don’t want to disturb you,“ he continued when she didn’t react. „But this may be my only chance to see you, so I had to try... I brought you some sweets, I know you love them.“

She drew a deep breath, as if she was indeed waking up just now, and turned her head a little. „You bought them?“ she whispered. „You don’t have any money...“

Virdon smiled. „I earned a bit on the side - I made leather bracelets for the chimpanzee children, and they paid me with a bit of their allowance. I didn’t take much,“ he added hastily. „I made the bracelets really cheap, but I wanted to buy you something... something nice.“

There was a moment of silence. „Thank you,“ Zana whispered.

Virdon cleared his throat. „Galen has forbidden us to come and see you,“ he explained in a low voice. „He is...“ _Furious._ “... very protective of you. But you know that, of course.“ He slowly rubbed his palms against each other between his knees, not sure how to proceed.

„Pete got into a nasty fight with him over that decision,“ he informed her. „I just thought you should know - he hasn’t forgotten you. He very much wanted to visit. Maybe he’ll manage to slip by Galen, like I just did. But it’s possible that your fiancé turns up here any moment, and kicks me out, so...“ he drew a deep breath, „I better say what I wanted to say, before I waste this opportunity.“

He flicked a glance at Zana’s face, but it was too dark in the room to see her expression. He couldn’t even say if her eyes were still open. Maybe she had already fallen asleep again. She had to be on drugs to numb the pain - and those drugs also dulled the mind.

He had to stop grasping for excuses to keep silent. „This was all my fault.“

The admission didn’t bring relief. But that was only right.

„You all were right, back when you tried to talk me out of going into that old city. You were right, and I was wrong, and the worst part is, I knew even then that I was just grasping for reasons to justify my desire. I was desperate to find something to help me get home to my family, and I let that despair overrule my good sense, and... and overrule anyone else’s common sense, too. I was selfish.“

Zana weakly raised her arm, and let it flop limply back on the coverlet, and Virdon didn’t know if that gesture was meant to tell him to stop talking, or to comment on what he had said.

In any case, it told him that she was awake, so he ploughed on. „I hope you believe me when I tell you that I didn’t dismiss the risks that my decision implied for any of you. I simply didn’t even think of any dangers, which is maybe worse, but at least it means I didn’t think of them and then decided I was willing to risk you running into them.“ He stopped, feeling he had somehow lost track of his original intent.

„If I could turn back time and undo what happened there, I would,“ he finally said. „But I know I can’t, and that the consequences of my selfishness will be with you for the rest of your life, and I can’t make that right again, ever.“

The weight of that truth dropped on him the moment the words had left his mouth, and he struggled to draw another breath. It was as if his chest had been crushed, as if he was choking on his failure.

Zana didn’t move. If she was still awake, she didn’t acknowledge his confession at all.

He had wanted to beg her forgiveness, but Virdon found he couldn’t say the words. He didn’t deserve forgiveness. Not from her, not from anyone.

„Words can’t express how sorry I am, Zana,“ he whispered. „If I can do anything, anything at all that would help you... help you to get better, feel better, just tell me, and I’ll do it. Whatever it is, Zana, you can ask anything from me.“

He couldn’t ask her forgiveness; but even her wrath would be better than this nothingness that was emanating from her, cold and miserable, like burial shrouds.

The door opened behind him, and now Virdon felt another kind of coldness surging against his back, an icy gale of white fury. He slowly rose from the chair and turned around.

Galen was standing in the door, face and stance stony like a statue; if he was surprised to find him here, he didn’t show it.

Virdon ducked his head. „I was just about to leave...“

Galen stepped into the room and closed in to him, trapping him between Zana’s bed and the wall. „I couldn’t help but overhear your offer,“ he said frostily, „and I might just take you up on it.“

Virdon blinked. „I made that offer to Zana,“ he said cautiously.

„You offered to do anything that would make her get better,“ Galen corrected him. „I know of something that would greatly help her recovery.“ He ducked his head and pulled a leather string over his head. When he extended his hand to him, Virdon saw that it was the data disc.

Galen was giving it back to him.

„Take it,“ he said, when Virdon made no move to reach for the disc. „You were loathe to let go of it, so I think it would help you just as much as it will help Zana and me.“ He pushed the pendant against Virdon’s chest and let go, and Virdon had no choice but to catch it before it dropped to the ground. He cast a searching glance to Zana. She met him with a stare that betrayed nothing.

Slowly, Virdon pulled the leather string over his neck. „If that’s what you both agreed on...“ he said hesitantly, still refusing to believe that Zana would throw them out for good.

He was met with silence from both apes.

Virdon turned to Zana a last time, still numb with disbelief. „Farewell then, Zana. I wish you... I wish that you’ll find happiness again. I’ll keep you in my... in my thoughts.“ He’d also keep her in his prayers, once he found the nerve to address God again, but right now, he wanted to avoid another altercation with her fuming fiancé.

Galen stepped back to let him pass, but Virdon didn’t move immediately. „Pete will want to say his goodbyes to her, too. Will you at least allow that?“

Galen nodded curtly, and with a sigh, Virdon brushed past him. He’d have to find Pete and explain to him that they had been abandoned like dogs by their pretend masters - without papers, without money, and without a single piece of equipment. For once, he was content to let his hot-tempered friend sort things out with the chimp. As events had so vividly demonstrated, his own decisions might not be the sanest right now.

And right now, he was more than willing to turn himself in and be done with.

* * *

Zana kept her eyes shut when she heard her door softly open and close. She didn’t want to know who it was - Galen, or Alan, both exhausting in different ways. If she pretended to sleep, maybe they would go away.

Maybe Peet had found a way to sneak into her room, as Alan had promised her... if she hadn’t dreamed his words. She still wasn’t sure whether she hadn’t dreamed the whole encounter. Galen had worn Alan’s pendant around his neck. Dreams often confused these details.

The visitor was slowly approaching her bed, and something - a faint scent, a movement, or maybe just their mere _presence -_ sent Zana’s heart into a hard and urgent rhythm, knocking against her breastbone in alarm.

She opened her eyes.

One of the Mothers was standing at her bed.

It took Zana one heart-stopping moment to recognize the midwife behind the feathered mask that was covering the old woman’s face from ear to ear. A row of small shells graced her brow, and the little metal discs that circled her neck chimed softly as she sat down on the chair beside Zana’s nightstand.

The visitor’s chair. She really should get up one of these days and feed her tea oven with it.

„Blessings of the Mothers be upon thee,“ the midwife murmured, and Zana’s heart began to race again. The old woman wasn’t here in her capacity as a healer. She had come here as a priestess of the Mothers, and for a moment, Zana wondered if the old woman had sensed something in her... something that needed cleansing.

The priestess drew a herb bundle from the depths of her robe and held it against the candle of Zana’s night lamp, then shook it to blow out the flame. The dried leaves blackened and crumbled. The scent of holy smoke filled Zana’s nostrils, sweet and balsamic. She inhaled deeply, almost against her will.

The old woman rose from the chair and bent over her, moving the smudge bundle over Zana’s body, from head to feet and back again. Her other hand was making signs, but Zana couldn’t decipher them. The rituals of the Mothers were as old as apekind, and didn’t require many words. Most was said with gestures, with paintings, or dance.

 _I should know what she’s saying. But I was always more interested in science than religion._ She had kept the prescribed rituals for her parents, out of love, and because it was done, and she didn’t doubt the existence and the power of the Mothers, as she suspected Galen was doing, but she never felt the need to meditate, or to study the Sacred Scrolls. Now she wished she had - maybe she’d have remembered the answer to the question that was tormenting her in her waking hours...

Finally, the midwife stuck the herb bundle between Zana’s fingers and sat down again. She felt the old woman’s ancient eyes on her, watchful, unreadable.

„It is very dark in this room,“ the priestess said finally.

 _I knew it! Something is wrong with me, and she saw it! She looked right into me, and she saw it!_ Zana tried to hold back her tears. „I... had asked my fiancé to close the curtains,“ she whispered hesitantly. „The light hurts my eyes.“

The woman pursed her lips. „Zana,“ she said, and Zana’s heart leaped into a frenzied gallop. How did she know her name? She was traveling as Alta now, they had to change their names again...

„Spark of lightning,“ the priestess continued, as if she hadn’t noticed Zana’s shock. „Where is the fire? It is dark in here. Where are you, Zana? Where are you?“

And with a wave of dizziness, Zana found that she couldn’t get a hold of herself, that she was grasping blindly in the darkness, in empty air. Tears sprang to her eyes. „I don’t know,“ she whispered. „I’m gone.“

The priestess nodded, slowly, like a branch waving in the wind. „Gone into the next world. So that your daughter doesn’t have to go alone. So that she isn’t frightened by the shadows.“

The image sent shivers down her arms; Zana could feel her fur moving against the fabric of the blanket. She saw herself going down a dark, dark road - an alley, choked by tall and black trees blocking out the sky, a jungle of shadows. A little hand was grasping hers, calm and trusting.

She didn’t dare to turn her head and look down at who was walking by her side.

„You sent a part of yourself into the next world with your baby,“ the rough voice of the priestess sounded far away. Somewhere behind her, in the gray light of her room. „But you don’t belong there, little spark. You must call that part back to you, back to the world of the living.“

With a sharp sniff, Zana was back in her bed. That hole in her heart was still there. The priestess hadn’t magically healed her grief.

_If only it were that easy._

„How am I supposed to do that?“ she asked, feeling the tears well up again. Her throat was tight, as if someone had put a collar on her and was choking her with it. „I lost my baby. The only baby I’ll ever have!“

It had been a mistake to say it aloud, but she realized it a moment too late. It was as if a trapdoor had opened up over her bed, and the enormity of that realization came crashing into her through that door. Zana could feel it hitting her as vividly as if someone had dropped a tree on her. It slammed into her chest and buried her under its weight.

„I’ll never be a mother!“ she sobbed, throat raw with anguish, „I’ll never have children, Galen will never be a father, I’ll never know what it’s like... what it’s like...“

„You are a mother,“ the old woman said firmly, „since the day you carried that child under your heart. Even though it died - even if all her children die, a woman carries them in her heart, to the end of her days. Nobody can change her again into a girl.“

 _I want a real child, a living, growing child,_ Zana raged silently, _not a flock of ghost children haunting my dreams!_

The priestess laughed, a sound so shocking that Zana’s tears dried in an instant. The old woman patted her shoulder. „You will have many, many children, living children of flesh and blood. The Mothers will bless you, little mother.“

„No, they won’t!“ She couldn’t hold the words inside any longer. „They won’t bless me, they’re angry with me, they... they’ve punished me for what I’ve done!“ She couldn’t breathe right, she was choking...

„The Mothers love you, little Zana, they aren’t filthy old women shaking their canes at you.“ The priestess sounded amused, and Zana’s agony turned into rage. She propped herself up on her elbows, too agitated to keep lying on her back.

„How can you say that?“ she hissed. „You don’t know what I’ve done, you don’t know what the Mothers think of that!“

„Oh, but you do?“ The priestess chuckled, an infuriating sound. „Tell me then, oh confidant of the Mothers, what did you do that you’re so sure they condemn?“

„I... I... I stole a child, and...“ She was back in the human’s hut, vandalized by Urko and his men, the humans huddled in a corner. She was grabbing at the child, drawing it towards her, pulling Delia out of her mother’s arms. Her mother, too frightened to plead with her, but her eyes... her eyes...

„Where is that stolen child now?“ the priestess asked mildly.

„I... I sent her back to her parents,“ Zana whispered. „I was desperate, I needed a guide, but they refused, and I just... I just ordered them, and then I took their daughter. I just took what I needed, because I’m an ape, and they couldn’t refuse me.“

She had felt guilty then, but she had also fleetingly thought about her own daughter then, safe in her belly, and how nobody would dare to steal her child from her.

_I shouldn’t have thought that. I shouldn’t have challenged the Mothers like that._

„A human? You really think the Mothers punished you for taking a _human?“_ The priestess clucked her tongue. „The Mothers created all creatures to serve us, including humans. You lost your child because you put yourself in danger. Don’t hold the Mothers responsible for your own choices.“ She rose. „Your spirit is fierce, Spark of Lightning. You will heal, if _you_ choose so.“

Zana’s hands were prickling, whether with shock or anger, she couldn’t say. But her tongue was suddenly thick and clumsy in her mouth, and she couldn’t think of any words, as she watched the old Chimp move towards the door. When she finally choked out a „Wait!“, the door had already closed again.

She sat up in her bed, shaking with... she couldn’t pinpoint the emotion. Nervous energy was flickering through her like distant lightning.

She gingerly swung her legs to the side and put her feet on the floor. They felt strange to her, their soles tender and swollen. Zana wasn’t sure if they would carry her.

She still managed to get to the window, and threw back the curtains. Outside, the sky was a wild blue, streaked with dark clouds. It felt as stormy and unstable as she did. She stared down at the street, at all the little people bustling around, going about their little lives, blissfully unaware.

„Where are you, Zana?“ she murmured.


	14. Chapter 14

Burke paused for a moment, consciously stopping himself from kicking in the door to the guest room. If he was really unlucky, other apes besides Zana and her pitbull were having a late breakfast in there, and would call the cops on him if he made a scene. So he just clenched his jaw and yanked the door open.

Their apes were the only two guests. As Burke marched towards their table, he noticed that Zana hadn’t touched the food on her plate at all. She was staring out of the window, while Galen was cutting a banana into slices.

„Zana hates bananas,“ Burke said by way of greeting, and flopped into a vacant chair without waiting for the apes’ permission. Neither Galen nor Zana reacted to his presence, but Burke had had too many girlfriends back home to be fazed by the silent treatment.

„But it’s news that you also hate me an’ Al,“ he continued, leaning in to Zana. „You’re kicking us to the curb? You can’t be serious!“

Zana slowly turned her head towards him. He expected her to say something, but she just blinked slowly, as if she hadn’t really listened to anything he had just said, as if she was coming back from some gray daydream.

Instead, it was Galen who answered. „Sometimes, we need to eat things we don’t like,“ he said, sliding the plate over to her. „And sometimes, we need to put distance between ourselves and... harmful influences, even if we have developed a fondness for them.“

Burke chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment, to keep himself from saying something he’d regret later. „Harmful influences? You make it sound as if Zana needs to lay off the liquor.“

„Whatever can be said about alcohol,“ Galen snapped, „at least it doesn’t have a conscious will to destroy itself and anyone it comes into contact with!“

„Now hold on a moment!“ Burke growled. „We don’t have a, a _conscious will_ to destroy you, or anyone here! That’s just bullshit from your scrolls!“

„The scrolls say nothing about the monsters that your ancestors created!“ Galen hissed. He thumped his fist on the table. „All those human cities weren’t destroyed by apes! They were destroyed by man! Just like man created the deserts to the west, that huge wasteland that can’t be crossed, let alone cultivated! Just like you intend to destroy this world again, with your insistence on returning to your own time!“

Burke rubbed his face, exasperated. „We don’t plan to destroy anything, Galen, Al just wants to go home to his family...“

„He’ll tell your Elders what will happen in their future, so that they can prevent it!“ Galen snapped. „We’ll be erased, we’ll never exist!“

Burke’s jaw dropped open as he stared into Galen’s blazing eyes. _It wouldn’t be so bad for the poor bastards that you call animals,_ he thought, but he was careful not to let that thought show on his face. „C’mon, Galen,“ he said slowly, „you know as well as I that there’s no chance in hell we’ll ever get back to our own time. This world of yours just isn’t up to sending us back, you’ve lost all that technological progress we had. You know it, I know it, and I bet even Al knows it - he just can’t admit it to himself yet. He’ll get there, eventually...“

„And how many ruined cities do we have to scour, before he’ll accept it?“ Galen asked sharply. „Do you really think I’d risk Zana’s life... her health... a second time? It was my faulty judgment that cost the life of our baby, and destroyed our, our hopes...“ He stopped, too choked to speak for a moment.

Burke flicked a glance at Zana’s impassive face and swallowed hard. „Look, we...“ He stopped, at a loss for words. Words simply weren’t enough here.

But words were all he had, now. „You know we’d never have gone in there if we’d known about these things,“ he finally said. „We’ve been in two other zones before, and they were totally deserted. Hell, even Gres set up shop in one of our old bunkers! _He_ thought it was safe, an’ he was an ape!“

„Of course apes can make errors of judgment, too,“ Galen said through clenched teeth. „It was my fault to allow humans to lead, and I... we paid dearly for it. But that won’t happen again.“

Burke gripped the edge of the table. „Bull-shit,“ he said, enunciating every syllable. „You know, you’re right about one thing: nobody forced you to come into the city with us. Al sure as hell didn’t tell you to follow him, an’ I didn’t, either. But if you want to spread the blame, let’s divvy it up: Al gets one quarter for having that idiotic idea in the first place, I get a quarter for not knocking him out and tying him to a horse, Zana gets a quarter for insisting that we need to stay together, an’ you get a quarter for not putting your foot down and stopping her. How ‘bout that?“

Galen stared at him, and for a moment, Burke thought he’d admit that it wasn’t just Al who had brought this upon them, the human, harbinger of death.

But then Galen rocked back in his chair, and shook his head, and with a sinking feeling in his gut, Burke knew he had lost. At least they had the guns... they’d probably die soon, in a shootout with a patrol, but at least they’d go down swinging. And Urko wouldn’t get his hands on him again.

„I want to keep them, Galen,“ Zana spoke up all of a sudden.

It was so unexpected that Burke was too surprised to bristle at her choice of words. She wanted to keep them around; he wanted to be kept around, at least until they had reached the mountains, and Urko finally was out of the picture.

„No, Zana,“ Galen said firmly. „I won’t stand for that. After everything that happened...“

„I want things to stay the same,“ Zana said, and Burke thought he could detect a tinge of despair in her listless voice. „I don’t think I’d have the energy to... to get used to change. Not another one.“

For a moment, Galen was staring at the tablecloth before him, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of his fist, deep in thought. Burke just sat there, perfectly still, letting him get used to the thought of giving in to his girlfriend yet again.

„If I agree to that,“ Galen finally said in a low voice, still staring at the spot between his plate and Zana’s, „it will be under one condition.“ His gaze flicked up to Burke, sharp and piercing. „That from now on, my word is law. You and Alan will obey my orders, and I will _not_ discuss my decisions with you.“

Burke felt his hands clench into fists on their own accord. „Establishing the natural order, huh?“ he growled. „Ape at the top, human at the bottom?“

Galen leaned slightly forward. „Well, we’ve tried it the other way round, and see how that worked out? You can accept my condition, or try to reach the mountains on your own. Though I must point out to you that you’d have no papers, no supplies, no money, and, most importantly, no apes pretending to be your legal wardens.“

„Owners,“ Burke ground out. „The word you’re looking for is ‘owners’. And you were perfectly okay with kicking us out without all that, just a moment ago. Even though you knew it’d be our death sentence.“

„If you'd asked nicely, I would’ve outfitted you with everything,“ Galen said cooly, „except owners, of course. But since you’re so passionately against the concept, you can’t complain about _that,_ can you?“

„Yeah, right.“ Burke didn’t believe for a second that Galen would’ve given them all those supplies. Not while he was in that mood.

„This is all beside the point now,“ Zana cut in tiredly. „Since you’ll stay. I’ll be happy for your company, Peet - I’ll need a distraction.“ She put her hand on his fist and began to stroke it with her thumb, and Burke fought the overwhelming impression that he’d be her pet dog from now on, to be cuddled and wept into.

He drew a deep breath. „Fine. Let me bring the good news to Al, then.“

„That can wait,“ Galen said, and threw his napkin on the table. „We need to get out of town as quickly as possible. I bought a new wagon that we need to collect. Get our horses; maybe you’ll even meet Alan at the stables. But if not, you won’t make any detours to go looking for him.“

Burke rose with him, caught between relief to be able to withdraw his hand from Zana’s caress, and fury at the imperious tone Galen was using on him. He bowed with a sardonic smile. „By your command, master,“ he intoned.

Galen just flicked him a cool glance. „I commend you for using the correct address by yourself,“ he said dryly. „I’ll see to it that both of you will pay attention to appropriate behavior from now on, especially in the presence of other apes besides Zana and me.“ He leaned in with an insincere smile, a mockingly conspiratorial gesture. „Because from now on, I won’t allow any further mistakes that could jeopardize our escape, or our lives.“ He nodded at him.

„And now go and do as you were told.“

* * *

 ****Virdon had been told to stay put in the tack room until Burke had hitched up the horses to their new wagon, but when he learned that Galen also wanted his friend to carry all their equipment downstairs from their rooms at the inn, he had snatched up his crutch, limped down to the horse’s box, put the new harness on Tala and Apache, and had driven the wagon over to the inn himself. He knew the ape didn’t want to see him, but he’d be damned if he’d let Galen burden Burke with all the work from now on. Since Zana had decided that she wanted to keep him around, her fiancé would just have to put up with having to see his face every day.

Pete had told him about Galen’s decision with a mixture of fury and amusement while he brushed down the horses. Virdon had just completed the last saddlebag, and was half determined to sell them off under Galen’s nose, so that they’d have at least a bit of money to buy some food.

He didn’t know how to feel about the ape’s new law. Until now, their group had been pretty egalitarian, with leadership shifting between him and Galen, and sometimes even to Zana or Pete. Now, it seemed that Galen was determined to establish a hierarchy that mirrored the greater power structure of this world.

Burke was already waiting at the side of the road; they hadn’t been able to salvage much when they had been forced to abandon their previous wagon, but Galen had stocked up on their equipment, and bags and boxes were piled up beside Burke. His friend looked sullen; Virdon was careful not to ask for the reason.

He reined in the horses and climbed slowly down from the driver’s seat. In the back of the wagon, he could hear Burke already heaving the canvas bags over the tailboard. When he finally reached the rear, Burke jumped out again, and grabbed the last bundle - the apes’ bedrolls. He chucked it into the wagon.

„You can jump right after those, and put them away where they belong,“ Galen’s sharp voice sounded from the door of the inn. Both men turned to watch him, as he slowly led Zana to the front of the wagon. The pair stopped at the passenger side; Galen turned his head and opened his mouth to call Virdon, then narrowed his eyes when he noticed that Burke hadn’t moved. „Get to it, Peet,“ he snapped.

Virdon more felt than saw Burke stiffen, but his friend just growled, „Yes, boss,“ and vanished into the back.

Galen pursed his lips for a moment, but said nothing. Virdon assumed he knew that Burke would never address any ape with ‘master’, except to mock. This was the most he could bring himself to.

With a sigh, Virdon grabbed the bow and pulled himself up. Burke left whatever he was doing, and came to lend him a hand.

„Damn that leg,“ Virdon gasped, and let himself fall onto the bundle of bedrolls that still lay where Burke had thrown it. „I’m so sick and tired of it acting up.“

„It’ll get better over time,“ Burke assured him. With a jerk, the wagon began to move.

Virdon turned his head to regard the apes for a moment. „You better get Zana’s bedroll out,“ he murmured and moved aside to hand the bundle to Burke. „She won’t be sitting on the passenger seat for long, she’s fresh out of surgery.“

Burke took the bundle, but didn’t move. He stood there, swaying a bit to balance out the wagon’s movement, and stared down at him with a frown.

„What?“ Virdon asked tiredly.

„You gonna call him ‘master’?“

Virdon rubbed his face. „Not if I can avoid it.“

„And if you can’t?“

Virdon sighed. „I’ll probably call him ‘boss’, like you do.“

„What a fucked up situation,“ Burke murmured. He moved to the front of the wagon and began to lay out Zana’s sheets. The new order positioned the apes at the front of the wagon, the humans all the way back against the tailboard. Virdon suspected that if the weather allowed it, he and Burke wouldn’t be sleeping inside the wagon at all.

Burke returned with a flask of water and some dried fruits, and they shared a meager breakfast. The sun was spearing through the clouds, throwing beams of golden light at the roofs and city walls of Silan, as the town slowly retreated from their view. The roofs were low and round, utterly alien to Virdon’s eyes. The dried apricot in his mouth was so sour that it made his eyes water, and suddenly he fervently wished for bacon and eggs. And coffee. He’d give his right leg for a cup of coffee right now.

„Are you still doing your _katas?“_ he asked Burke.

Burke slightly turned his head and gave him a sideways glance. „They aren’t called that, but yes, I’m still doing them,“ he said. „Not that they’d do me any good against an ape... Why do you wanna know?“

„I was thinking, maybe you could teach them to me,“ Virdon said hesitantly. „I have no ambition to become a martial arts fighter, but maybe they’d retrain my leg. I can’t go on crutches for the rest of my life. Not in this world, not if I want my life to last longer than a few months.“

Burke nodded. „Sure. I can do that. Good idea, Al.“

They were both thinking the same thing: once they had crossed the mountains, they were out of Urko’s reach. The need to stay together as a group would end then, and with the way things had developed, the apes wouldn’t want them to stick around, either.

„It seems the northern apes aren’t that strict when it comes to humans traveling unsupervised,“ Virdon remarked. He pondered the dried fig in his hand, then put it away. „Provided they have all the necessary papers with them.“

„They even allow humans to carry weapons,“ Burke added. „Leander said something about humans being trained as bodyguards for them. That means I can keep Betsy.“ Galen had confiscated all the other guns Burke had captured from the apes. Virdon wondered if he had sold them - the money for the new wagon had to have come from somewhere.

„Better keep that gun out of Galen’s sight,“ he cautioned. „I doubt he’d tolerate a weapon on either of us now.“

„Betsy and I saved his hairy ass,“ Burke growled. „An’ I’m not giving up my knife to an ape again.“ He was wearing his ANSA knife hidden under his shirt. Virdon assumed that Galen knew about it, but chose to ignore it, as long as Burke didn’t blatantly push it into his face. As furious as the ape was with them right now, he hadn’t lost his cool pragmatism.

„So what are we gonna _do_ with our freedom up North, Al?“ Burke leaned against the plank and stretched his legs. His fingers played with the cap of his water bottle. „Are you still determined to dig through every damn nuked city between here and the Rockies?“

Virdon smiled and watched the sky. It would rain later this morning. „Yep.“

„Jeez, Al!“ Burke muttered.

„I don’t expect you to stay around...“ Virdon began.

„C’mon, you know I can’t let you get yourself killed,“ Burke interrupted roughly. „Gonna make sure you don’t get eaten by mutants.“ He was silent for a moment, probably struggling for a diplomatic way to phrase his next words.

„But really, Al, that’s no way to live!“ he finally exploded. „What if you’ll never find a way? How long do you wanna try before you finally admit that this world is just too backwards to get us home? Five years? Ten? Twenty, assuming we live that long?“

Now it was Virdon’s turn to search for words. „Right now, I can’t imagine I'll ever stop looking for a way home,“ he murmured.

Burke sighed. „So that’ll be my life then,“ he said, frustrated. „Chasing your Fata Morgana.“

Virdon glanced up to him. „You still haven’t told me what kind of life you think you can have here. A life worth living, I mean.“

And this time, his friend had no answer.


	15. Chapter 15

„Okay,“ Gina said. „This is it. Ready to explore a new world?“

Helen didn’t answer; when Gina turned her head to ask her what was wrong, she saw that the girl had curled up on the passenger seat of Mrs. Virdon’s car - technically the car of the institute she was working for - and was staring out of the side window.

„Hey,“ Gina said friendly, „the parking lot isn’t really that interesting. Come on, I need to stretch my legs.“ They had driven all the way out to Jacksonville, because Helen had discovered that the zoo had a new exhibit that simulated landing on an alien planet and exploring the animals there, and had wanted to visit there at all costs.

And now that they were finally here, she had gone into strike. Although Gina had a pretty good idea about the reason.

She decided to ignore Helen’s bad mood for now; once they were through the gate, there would be enough sights - and ice cream - to distract her from the fact that this was a goodbye gift from Gina, before she’d leave for California.

But Helen’s mood didn’t lift at the aviary, nor did she show any interest in the snakes and lizards in the reptile house, or in the leopards, or the lions, or the giraffes.

„You know,“ Gina said while they were resting for a moment on a platform in the huge central tree that was overlooking the trail of the Great Apes Loop, „you’re spoiling this day for yourself. We’ve already seen a third of the zoo - well, _I’ve_ seen it. All that you’ve looked at are your shoes.“

„I’m not spoiling anything,“ Helen muttered, staring stubbornly at her feet. „You are.“

„I drove you all the way out here,“ Gina protested. „I thought we’d be having a blast with the alien animals - and our own animals - and with-“

„Why do you have to go away?“ Helen finally raised her head and glared up at her. „You could go to a college _here,_ like Chris!“

„Chris doesn’t go to any college,“ Gina said curtly. She didn’t want to discuss this, least of all with a seven year old child.

„I’ll come back often and visit you,“ she tried to console Helen. „Or you can come visit me - your mom can bring you to the airport here, and I’ll be waiting for you at the airport there. How about that?“

Helen heaved a sigh, and slung herself over the railing like a wet rag. Gina resisted the urge to grab her waistband to keep her from falling down to the gorillas.

„But I’ll be all alone in the meantime,“ Helen complained, head still upside-down. „Or I’ll get a babysitter who is a jerk. Can’t you stay, please, please, please, please...“

„I already registered,“ Gina said, unnerved, and plucked her from the railing. „Please, Lennie, can’t we just enjoy this day and talk about something else? How’s... how’s Chris doing?“

She hadn’t seen Chris since prom night. At first it had been her who had ignored his calls, until he didn’t call anymore, and she had calmed down; but now it was he who ignored _her_ calls, and Gina felt pissed off and morose in turn.

Helen shrugged. „I dunno. He’s always with professor Hasslein, or in his room.“ Chris’ room was strictly off-limits to Helen, as Gina had often enough witnessed when the girl had tried to enter despite her brother’s orders.

„I went into his room last week,“ Helen confided in her. „When he wasn’t home.“

Gina raised her brows. „What did you want in there? You know you’ll get in trouble if he finds out.“

Helen nodded, a bit embarrassed. „I just wanted the planetarium. I wanted to look at where Dad had gone.“

Gina bit back a groan. _Please, God, just one day with these people when Mr. Virdon doesn’t get mentioned!_

„And I couldn’t put it back, because Chris came home early,“ Helen continued, „and I thought he’d yell at me again, but he didn’t say anything! I think he didn’t even notice that it was gone.“ She chewed on her lip for a moment. „I still have it...“ she said finally. „And Chris still hasn’t said anything to me. You know what I think?“

She didn’t wait for Gina’s answer. „I think he doesn’t know because he never looks at it anymore.“

„That could be,“ Gina agreed. „He works a lot, he probably doesn’t have much time for these things anymore.“

Helen scrunched up her face. „But it was Daddy’s last Christmas present for him! The last Christmas they ever had!“

„Maybe it makes him sad to look at it, then,“ Gina suggested. She threw a glance into the jungle around them, hoping for a gorilla to show up and present her with a distraction for Helen.

„Maybe...“ Helen said slowly.

Still no gorilla in sight. Gina desperately cast for something to steer this conversation away from the Virdon family drama.

„I wish Daddy would’ve been here to give me something for Christmas, too,“ Helen said quietly. „I’d never stop looking at it.“

„I’m sure he would’ve given that planetarium to both of you, Lennie,“ Gina said helplessly. „So it’s his Christmas present to you, too. - Oh look,“ she pointed at the trees behind Helen. „There they are!“

For a while, they pretended to watch the group of gorillas that had come into sight, but Helen’s attention was clearly elsewhere, and Gina anxiously waited for the girl’s next comment.

„Do you think he’d have liked me... at least a little?“ Helen finally asked, and Gina was torn between pity for her, and relief that the thought that had tormented her was finally out in the open.

„Of course he’d have liked you,“ she said. „And not a little, a lot! He loved you before you were even born!“

„But he didn’t know me then,“ Helen argued.

„And if he’d known you, he’d loved you a bit more every day,“ Gina assured her.

„I dunno,“ Helen murmured, her gaze fixed at her toes again. „Chris knows me, and he hates me a bit more every day...“

„That’s nonsense,“ Gina said firmly. „Chris doesn’t hate you.“

„He said he’d exchange me for Daddy any day,“ Helen mumbled.

„He... when did he say that?“ Gina asked, aghast.

Helen shrugged. „I dunno. But he said it.“

Gina was at a loss for words for a moment. „People say stupid things sometimes,“ she said at last. „When they are angry, or sad. I’m sure he didn’t mean it. C’mon, this is our day at the zoo! Let’s see what the guide can tell us about the gorillas down there!“

She dragged Helen towards the information booth and plopped a VR set over the girl’s head before Helen could protest. She watched her for a moment, until she was certain that Helen didn’t rip off the helmet again, and then allowed herself to slump against a post and rub her eyes. The exhaustion was mental, not physical, but she felt as if she had run uphill for hours.

It would be good to put some distance between herself and the Virdons. Gina fervently wished she could take Helen with her.

„Aren’t you going to use this?“

Gina started and turned around to face the owner of that new voice behind her. For a moment, she had the eerie impression that Chris had somehow turned up at the zoo to surprise her - but the man smiling at her had a broader face, and was stockier than Chris. Still, she smiled back automatically, and raised the VR helmet she had been holding. „Yes, in a moment... or did you want to...“

The young man held up his hands. „No, no, go ahead - I already took the tour.“ He flashed a grin at her. „I just like listening to the nice woman in there.“

Gina laughed with him and moved to put on the helmet.

„I don’t understand why they aren’t using VR _instead_ of live animals,“ the man said, and Gina politely hesitated. „You know, instead of using it on top of them. They could close this prison and repatriate the inmates.“

„This isn’t a prison,“ Gina said with a slight laugh.

„No?“ The man was still smiling at her, but his gaze held a challenge now. „The animals can’t choose where to go, they can’t choose their partners, they are condemned to sit on display for our entertainment. All the education that zoos claim to provide, can be provided much better by virtual reality.“ He gestured at her helmet. „Instead we keep destroying their natural habitats in the wild, and drive them to extinction. Don’t you think that’s a tiny bit hypocritical?“

„But they breed endangered species in the zoos,“ Gina protested weakly. She felt vaguely harassed by this guy - just her luck to fall victim to some activist.

On the other hand, she was going to study biology. Shouldn’t she confront herself with these things?

„Yes, they breed animals in zoos,“ the man agreed and leaned casually against the railing. „Because baby giraffes and baby otters and baby kangaroos - “ he pointed behind himself - „and baby gorillas are so cute. But to really make a difference for an endangered species, you’d need hundreds of animals, to keep the gene pool sufficiently big. Everything else will just produce inbreeding, and the result wouldn’t be able to survive in the wild... provided there was a habitat left to resettle them in.“

He had a point, Gina admitted to herself.

„Now, to avoid inbreeding, the zoos shuttle the animals around the globe,“ the guy continued. „Or they stock up with animals caught in the wild, which is a drain on those populations. Nope...“ he gazed thoughtfully into the canopy above them, „I’m not sold on this rebreeding program thing.“

„No, you’re right,“ Gina heard herself say. „If you really think about it, it doesn’t make much sense.“

The guy glanced at her with a mischievous smile. „I was right about you - I saw you standing there, and said to myself, this woman looks like she’s got a sharp mind.“ He pushed away from the railing and offered her his hand. „My name’s Alexander, Alec for short.“

„Gina,“ Gina said, and shook his hand. „And are you usually prowling these grounds in search for sharp women to convert to your movement?“

Alec slapped his hand against his chest with a shocked expression on his face. „Movement? What movement?“

„Oh, come on,“ Gina said, torn between annoyance and amusement. „I’m waiting for you to whip out the pamphlet ever since you started calling the zoo a prison.“

Alec chuckled and shook his head. „No pamphlets. But I can give you the link to our website, if you’re interested.“

„’Our’ website?“ Gina said with raised brows. „So there _is_ a movement?“

„Not really,“ Alec said ruefully. „More like people who seek to inspire each other.“ He offered her a business card, and Gina accepted it gingerly. It had no logo, no image, no name - just a web address... www.animal-freedom-coalition.org

„The coalition, hm? I’ll... have a look,“ she said to Alec, who pursed his lips and nodded. Gina wondered how many people he hit up each day, and how many really looked up his website. For all she knew, he could be a lone nutjob... or the recruiter for a cult.

Maybe she’d access his website from a library computer.

„Well, it was nice meeting you, Alec,“ she said, and carefully tucked the card into her purse, „but we need to get going. Helen here wanted to see the alien animals exhibition, and...“

The words died in her throat when she turned around to gesture at Helen. The VR helmet was dangling from its cord, the flashing lights at its side indicating that the guided tour was still running.

Helen was nowhere to be seen.

„Where is she?“ Gina whipped her head around, frantically scanning the crowds that were wandering the trail tubes to and from their platform. She couldn’t spot Helen anywhere. How long had she been gone? She had only talked with Alec for a few minutes!

„I didn’t see her sneak away, either,“ Alec was saying. „I’m sorry... I’ll help you find her, okay? You go this way, I go back this trail...“ He looked at her, stopped, and gripped her upper arms. „I’m sure she just got bored and went to see... what did you say?... the alien animals exhibition.“

„Yes!“ Gina said, relieved. „That’s why she wanted to come here in the first place.“

But Helen wasn’t in the alien animal exhibition, nor was she in the giraffe overlook, or the play park, or the penguin exhibit. Gina was sure she had scoured the entire zoo a dozen times by then, rattled by visions of having to tell Mrs. Virdon that she had lost her baby daughter, vowing never to have children herself, and memories of every crime show she had ever watched, and all the heinous things that pedophiles and serial killers did to their victims. The longer she searched in vain, the tighter her chest became, until she felt that she was choking on unshed tears of terror. _I’ve lost her! I lost Helen in the zoo! I was distracted for just one minute! One minute!_

She even suspected Alec to distract her on purpose, so that his accomplices could snatch Helen behind her back. But he turned up again, zoo security in tow, and continued to turn up every stone with her. Gina told herself that suspecting him of embellishing his own cover by staying at her side was just her own paranoia speaking.

One of the security people finally found Helen in the parking lot, curled up on the backseat of their car, and sleeping - or pretending to sleep. Her exaggerated yawn and stretch when she saw Gina stumbling across the parking lot towards her made Gina suspect it was the latter, but she was too relieved to slap her.

Instead, she hugged Helen so tightly that the girl began to squirm in her embrace. Gina felt lightheaded; all those hours she had held back her tears - crying meant that Helen was truly gone, and if she shed a single tear, she’d never find her again - but now that she was allowed to cry, the tears wouldn’t come.

She crouched down before Helen and shook her. „Why did you do this? Can you even imagine what I went through in the last two hours? What were you _thinking?“_

Helen shrugged, and stubbornly stared at the ground. „I dunno.“

Gina swallowed hard. „Go back into the car. We’re going home. I’m not in the mood for alien animals anymore.“

The security people had left by the time Gina had fastened Helen’s seat belt and closed the door, but Alec was still standing on the parking lot, looking slightly lost. Gina slowly walked over to him. Her feet hurt like hell.

„I sent them off,“ Alec said with a slight smile. „Are you okay?“

Gina nodded. Alec regarded her for a long moment; then he took a step towards her and drew her into a hug. Gina stumbled into his embrace, too surprised to protest.

„I’m sorry you had such a shitty day,“ Alec said. „You’re gonna be alright. Just let the autopilot drive, okay?“

She nodded against his chest, and suddenly, the tears did come. _Here I am,_ a sarcastic part of her commented, _standing on a parking lot, crying into the shirt of a stranger._ But the bigger part of her was just too exhausted, and too rattled, to care.

They hadn’t even driven more than twenty miles when Gina told the computer to stop at a McDonalds. „Just to be clear,“ she said to Helen. „We’re not here for milkshakes. I swear, we’re not moving again until you told me why you ran away.“

Helen just stared out of the window, exuding an aura of hurt and accusation.

„So it was my fault, somehow?“ Gina said, when it became clear that Helen wouldn’t answer. „What did I do? Was it because I talked to that guy? I was just being polite, you know?“

„It’s not that...“ Helen mumbled.

„Then what is it? I was _dying_ in there! This was the worst day of my life!“

„I just wanted to go home.“ Helen turned around to look at her. „Can we go home now, please?“

„We didn’t even get to see the alien animals,“ Gina said, stunned. _„You_ wanted to see them, remember? We had to drive all the way out here, just for that exhibition.“

„Yes, but... I don’t care anymore,“ Helen said with a shrug.

 _Something_ had happened in that little skull, Gina was absolutely sure of that. During those hours of her panicked search, Helen had been sitting in this car, thinking...

... but she had no idea what Helen had been thinking about. And Gina knew the Virdon siblings well enough to know that Helen wouldn’t tell her, even if she threatened to stay in the McDonald’s parking lot all night. If Chris and Helen shared anything, it was their stubbornness. Mrs. Virdon swore that they had inherited that trait from their father.

With a sigh, Gina restarted the car. „And what _do_ you care about instead?“ she asked against her better judgment.

Helen stared into the darkening sky.

„Chris,“ she said.


End file.
